


/ 

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I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. # 






I UNITED STATE8 OF AMERICA. | 



SPECIMENS; 



LEISURE HOURS POETICALLY EMPLOYED ON 
VARIOUS SUBJECTS; 

MORAL, POLITICAL & RELIGIOUS 



' Quid autem tentare nocebit?" 



BY JOSIAH'^SHIPPEY, A. B. 



WITH NOTES CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY; 

Also, a brief History of the Life of t' e Autlior, from the year 1778 to the 
year 1841 ; to which is added a Synopsis of all the parts of Learning. 

BY SA3IUEL JOHNSON, D. D. 

* 

President of Eing^s, now Columbia, College, Neic- York. 



^,^ry o^Ca;^^ 



iOU. 

PRINTED BY JOSEPH B. ALLEE, 

104 BeeUtnan-strest. 

1841. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by 

JosiAH Shippey, a. B. 

In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. 



CONTENTS. 



Piety in appearance only, . . . .83 
Address to the Scholars of a certain School on the death of one of 

their companions, ... ib. 
Re-union of Soul and Body in a future state, . . 84 
Faith, . . . . 85 
Final impenitence, and the call to drink the Waters of Life, ib. 
Worshippers worshipping on their knees on the' steps of the Ca- 
thedral, . . . . . - 86 
No Salvation without Repentance, . . ib. 
The Black Man's Epitaph, . . . . ib. 
The Martyr's Crown, .... ib. 
Video Meliora Proboque ; deteriora sequor, . . 88 
Oninis Indioe opes superatmens conscia recti, . ib. 
The proper use of Learning, . . . ib. 
The Old Veteran, .... 89 
Future Prospects, . . . . ib. 
The Last Shade, .... ib. 
Repent, . . , ib. 
Temptation, .... 90 
Repentance, . . , . . ib. 
The Human Soul, .... 91 
Man, a thinking being, . . . . ib. 
The power of Jehovah, .... ib. 
The Grave, Heaven and Hell, . . . ib. 
Divine Wrath, .... 92 
Maramoni profitably disposed of, . . . 93 
Temperance, .... ib. 
The Doctrines and Precepts of the Gospel, . . 94 
The Saviour and his Bride, the Church, . . ib. 
Dying in Sin, . . . . . ib. 
Death will not wait our wishes, ... ib* 
Light and Darkness, . . . .95 
Epitaph, ..... ib. 
Columbia College, . . . . ib- 
Generals in sermons, .... 99 
To accompany the presentation of a Souvenir sent to a young 

lady as New Year's present. . . ib. 

Epitaph for Mr. Sturges, ... 100 

The Lord's Prayer versified, . . . ib. 

A Scriptural Acrostic, .... ib. 

The Substitute, or the Cordwainer cured of drunkenness 101 



CONTENTS. 



Glory, . . . , . , 199 

We must not do evil that good may come therefrom, ib. 

Prayers preferred in wrath will not be answered, . ib. 

Life is uncertain, .... ib. 

The Good Man's Death, . . . .110 

The end of Time and beginning of Eternity, . ib. 

Profane Swearing, .... Ill 

Religion, always the same, ... ib. 

The love of Money is the root of all Evil, . . ib. 

Justice and Mercy, . . ^ . . ib. 

Connubial Happiness, . . . 113 

Suavitor in modo, sed fortiter in re, . . 114 

Moderation, ..... 115 

Christ knocking at the heart, ... ib. 
Reflections, on scenes passed through at "threescore and up- 
wards," ..... 117 

The Scholiad, .... 120 

The New-York Arsenal, . . .1^2 

The Shipwreck, .... 123 

Prayer, . . .... 124 

Reform, . . . . . 125 

The Day of Judgment, .... 126 

Disjecta membra poe'.se .... 128 

A wounded spirit, .... 129 

False appearances, . _. • . . ib. 

Reflection, . . . . . ib. 

A caution, ..... 130 

The old and nevv' man, . . . . ib. 

Decision, ..... ib. 

Dandyism, • . . . . ib. 

Sprights, ..... ib. 

Bombast, . .... 131 

Sincerity, ..... ib. 

Politics, . . . . . . ib. 

Cold weather, . . . . . 132 

Misspent time, . , . . . ib. 

Parents and children, . . . Jb. 

Youth, . . . . . . ib. 

Patience under suffering, . . , I33 

Potential reasons assigned, . . . . ib. 

Concluding a piece, .... ib. 



CONTENTS. 

Truth, . - . 

Politeness, ..... 

A Sonnet, ... 

The whole duty of man. 

Praying will make us leave off sinning, or, sinning will make us 

leave off praying. 
On passing the one arched bridge over the Schuylkill, Pa. 
An Address, .... 

Do Good, ..... 

Ridicule not the test of Truth, 

Wit and Judgment, . . . 

Synthesis and Analysis, 

Idlers, ..... 

The human heart, .... 

Motive and Action, .... 

Betting or Wagering, .... 

Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum, .... 

Vox et prjEterea nihil. 

On the prospect of returning to New-York, after the war in 1815. 
The Waster, or Thief in the Candle , . 

The sword and cane, .... 

Portraits without wigs, . . 

The Christian's hope, .... 

Kindness, . . 

The World's Epitaph, . . . 

The old man's reflection on a child's treading upon his toes, 
A National Toast, .... 

Queen Victoria and her marriage with Prince Albert, 
Inscribed in an annual presented to Miss S^^^^, 
Married harmony, .... 

A brief history of the life of the Author, 



QUANTUM MERUIT, 



PRELIMINARY THODGHTS ON THE PROPRIETY OF PUBLISHING A BOOK, 
OR OF ENGAGING IN SOME OTHER PURSUIT. 



Why sitt'st thou pond'ring there ? string up thy nerves ! 
And give the subject all that it deserves ! 



Day's luminary gone, the twilight pass'd, 

The sombre shades of night come thick'ning fast ; 

The world iipturn'd the Queen of night displays, 

Her face resplendent with reflected rays; 

Her bright attendant sparkling by her side. 

In all the radiance of an ev'ning bride. 

Yet she alone, cannot her gaze confine. 

More bright familiars clust'ring round her shine ; 

And countless gems remote, yet twinkling bright, 

On mortals' optics fling a feebler light ; 

And halos, mock-suns, meteors, comets glance 

Throughout the vast unlimited expanse. 

Now Contemplation leaves her house of clay, 

And wings beyond this vale of wo her way; 

Fast by Heav'ns Queen she raptur'd sits, and tlicrc 

Builds specious castles in the ambient air. 

Scheme after scheme employs her teeming brain, 

Some are for glory meant, and some for gain ; 

And so she weaves, and weaves her airy net — 

She'll form a chariot that will ne'er upset. 

Now, next hydraulics flit across her mind, 

She mimic rain will make by pow'r confin'd 

With volume large, and then so strong, no doubt 

'Twill put the fiercest spreading fire out. 



14 

Anon, she passes to the watery deep, 

And there expects a copious crop to reap ; 

A boat she'll form that parts on either side, 

Which wind and waves may both alike deride ; 

A boat — that will all other boats excel. 

And e'en from Greathead's boat bear off the belle. 

Then clicmicals, much wanted and much priz'd, 

From which vast fortunes have been realized : 

But their hard names, and subtile gases too, 

Present a sight appalling to her view. 

She turns her face in search of other things, 

And they fly off on disappointment's wings. 

A pause ensues — and shall she still remain 

Fix'd whore she is, or her old home regain ? _ 

The last appears the safest of the twain — 

Still — her main object she would first attain. 

Nor should that object show her time misspent, 

But something worthy of her powers present. 

To arts mechanic she in vain may fly. 

On them let minds mechanical rely; 

Let them for her in their own way take pains. 

While she for them will labor with her brains. 

Heav'n on her soul impress'd this kindly seal, 

Far less for matter than for mind to feel. 

To empty schemes she bids a long — good-by. 

For she's resolv'd an — AutJwrship — to try! 

An Author ? — what, — and if a Book one makes ! — 

Why — pains and labor on himself he takes. 

And then for all his toil — what recompense ? 

He may please one, to thousands give offence. 

Oh prospect cheerless to a poet's mind ! 

Should friends desert, should all men prove unkind — 

If he despair, and but his pen withhold, 

How can the story of his life be told? 

Naught would be seen to praise or to condemn, 

And then his rhymes — what would become of them ? 

Let them be burn'd nor to mankind be shown. 

He'd quit this world unnotic'd and unknown. 

But Knowledge speaks in accents soothing, kind, 



35 

" Be active and be useful to mankind. 
Who says mankind will not appreciate 
Your well-meant efforts, but will prove ingrate ? 
What though no shining talent you possess, 
Should then one useful be csteem'd the less ? 
Then think not thou art by thy friends forsook, 
But undismay'd go on and print thy book. 
Why should St thou be to cravent fear a slave ? 
Success attends the fearless and the brave. 
For, know, the mind for noble actions form'd. 
When by a gen'rous thirst for knowledge warm'd ; 
Strives lo surmount all danger, toil and pain, 
The much desir'd the glorious prize lo gain." 



PREFACE. 



Though there are some minutiae in pohteness, 

The which to find out needs not much adroitness, 

Yet did the same in every age exist, 

In which ev'n Ave think proper to persist : 

The doing which on no man should bear hard on, 

Neglect of which no well bred man will pardon. 

These to pass o'er unnotic'd and neglected ; 

When by each one they're look'd for and expected. 

No matter by what cause impellVl or driven, 

Th' offence will seldom ever be forgiven. 

That is, for instance, take one friend or more, 
Into a comp'n)^ they'd ne'er seen before ; 
For this intrusion how will it excuse 'em ? 
The thing is plain — why you must introduce 'em. 
But may not this to other things refer? 
Truly— unto a Preface — my dear Sir. 
Such is its use, nobody sure can doubt it, 
That no new Book should ever be without it. 
Admit it so — then, without more debate, 
At large our Author will go on to state ; 
Why he should at his time of life conclude, 
His Book upon the PubUc to intrude, 
Imprimis, then, he thinks a better chance, 
May not occur his wishes to advance ; 
Wishes he's cherish'd from an early day, 
If kindly, Providence would clear his way, 
That of his life prolong'd from year to year, 
Some fruit of goodness might at last appear; 
His friends not only, but mankind to show, 
His hours not idly wasted here below, 
By day not merely, but night after niglit ; 
None but himself to profit and delight , 
As by this Legacy, yet not alone ; 
He would for some of his past sins atone. 
Solely by words he cannot, but by deed ! 



8 PREFACE. 

"Justice must generosity precede." 

Now to thee, gentle Reader, be it known. 

That, though no House or Land he calls his own ; 

Yet if his work, though somewhat small of size, 

A thinking, liberal public patronize ; 

He hopes the world will shortly see and know, 

The Author lives, and yet no man to owe ! 

Next in a diff 'rent light his Book he views. 

And through life's vista the fond thought pursues : 

That since he wrote it with a mind sincere, 

Some following good may in its time appear. 

Some erring one be turn'd from wrong to right, 

And sins besetting be forsaken quite. 

His "Specimens" he's ta'en from out his store 

Of pieces written, most in times of yore. 

Which will be readily discern'd, by you, 

Before, kind Reader, you have read them through. 

All pieces pers'nal, caustic and severe, 

He would not let them in his book appear. 

But to the flames will them commit, each one, 

For the sad mischief, in past years, they've done. 

His Book he views before the public spread, 

By 3'oung and old, b\' learn'd and unlearn'd read ; 

And shall he wonder or be aught surpris'd. 

If oft'ncr wrong than right 'tis criticis'd ? 

But should some critic of the " genuine stamp," 

O'er his fair prospects cast a "chilling damp," 

If he his sentence from Synopsis drew. 

He'll bow submissive, and he'll thank him too. 

That there are faults he's vastly well aware, 

Name them ye friends that he may them repair. 

'Tis easy prov'd, if it were worth th' attempt, 

No man from error'^s perfectly exempt, 

Prove one man perfect whensoe'er you can — 

Behold an Angel! he's no longer man. 

Go then, thou Book, and may kind Heaven will 

That thou may'st do some good, but cause no ill. 

The Author. 



SPECIMENS. 



Quere. What is Po-e-try ? 
Echo. . . try. 



Echo, if right I understand, 

She queries not, but gives command. 

Lady, I thank thee — I'll obey, 

And turn my face another way. 

Now to some foreign source I'll seek, 

The Latni ? first, I'll try the Greek ; 

In haste the Lexicon I take. 

And find — Poieo — English — 7)iake. 

As how, I pray, and from what stuff? 

Why language, truly — sure enough ! 

Next my consid'ring cap I'll try, 

My Muse, I mean — I pardon cry. 

From MousA, muse — thence music springs, 

And in this tongue the Poet sings ; 

So ev'ry language clearly shows, 

'Tis nothing else than measur'd prose. 

What says my Muse, or wrong or right, 

As clear "^as day, or dark as night \ 

If the appeal to mc you make. 

This short conclusive answer take ; 

Howe'er his theme the Poet fashions, 

He speaks "the language of the passions." 



THE PASSIONS. 



Passions arc those sensations of the soul, 
Which pain or pleasure in tlieir turns control. 



20 A POETICAL TRANSLATION. 

AN APOTHEGM VERSIFIED. 

Each youthful excess is a draft on age. 
Which ev'ry constitution will engage 
To pay with int'rest at a lib'ral rate, 
Some "forty, fifty, sixty years from date. 



IMAGINATION AND FANCV. 

Imagination claims the Sun, 
The Moon is Fancy's right ; 

Imagination works by day, 
While Fancy works by night. 



A POETICAL TRANSLATION OF THE FOLLOWING LATIN 
SENTENCE. 

" J3am Bruti effigiem. Sculptor de marmore 
Ducit ; in mentem sceleris venit et abstiimit." 

While Bnitus's bust in the Avhitc marble grows, 
See the Sculptor's amaz'd, quite motionless stands ; 

As Brutus's crime through his memory flows, 
His chisel and mallet drop out of his hands. 

ANOTHER. 

Hear while Brutus's bust in the marble grows. 
The Sculptor pronounce as he musingly stands ; 

Your bust, while your crime through my mcm'rv flows. 
No finish shall ever receive at my hands. 



ILL MANNERS. 21 

iLL MANNERS, OR THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ADDITION 
AND IMPROVEMENT EXPLAINED. 

Though addition is one thing, improvement another. 

Yet some people take them for sister and brother ; 

But if in appearance so close they're allied. 

You may find w^here they diftei when wrongly appli'd. 

Our position, the story we mean to relate. 

Will suffice to confirm and besides illustrate. 

But here let us premise, that the person we knew. 

Who first told us the tale, so we think the tale true. 

One day an old Cit with a friend went to dine, 

At the house kept by Bardin, 'twas call'd the Tontine. 

So now see them seated conversing together, 

But we cannot tell which, of the wind or the Aveather. 

Though here we'll remark, till we further proceed. 

Few Z/otels like this from ill manners are freed ; 

And sure 'tis ill manners, though self-conccii flatters, 

To pry into other folks' bus'ness and matters, 

But their converse to us, though of little import, 

Yet 'twas sorely disturb'd, interrupted in short, 

By a Dandy who while, he his knife and fork play'd, 

Most attentively listen'd to all the Cit said, 

And shoAv'd by his visage, his gestures and action, 

That he noted it all, aye, e'en to a fraction. 

Though this act of the Dandy our Cit sore annoy'd, 

Yet he thought in his mind, " I'll a quarrel avoid. 

Now the dessert is come, vi-ce solids discuss'd, 

A traverse I'll work, which will rid me, I trust, 

Of this bore of a Dandy with his scruXmy ; 

So pleasing to him but distressing to me." 

So while each one was eating his pudding amain. 

The Cit to his friend rais'd his voice, in such strain. 

As to stop all the eaters, and make each one hear, 

"Know'st, to pudding how great an addition is beer ?" 

Now the Cit, though 'twas odd, found his quere not lost. 

It the Dandy absorb'd, so it did to his cost. 

While the eaters were making the best of their time. 

He mus'd on the subject, he thought it sublime ! 



22 ESSAY ON DEPENDENCE. 

" To give it a trial, I don''t see I need fear." 
So lie call'd to the waiter — " waiter bring me some beer." 
Soon the waiter return'd, and though strange to relate, 
Yet he took up the beer and pour'd aomc on his plate. 
Then a piece of his pudding he sopp'd in his beer, 
And to swallow it tri'd, and made faces most queer, 
But it would not go down — 'twas as stubborn as fate, — 
He ejected the piece, and it fell on his plate. 
NoW' the eaters had eagerly watch'd the event, 
And just at that moment cdl with hearty consent, 
A svickcving set up, to the end of the room, 
Which the poo?- Umidy flung into sullenest gloom. 
He queri'd the Cit, without asking permission, 
Didn't you say that to pudding beer was an addition ? 
"I did" — the Cit answer'd, and tho' some folks may stare, 
" That 'twas any Imjjrovement, I did not declare." 
To the bottom the eaters quick see the whole thing. 
And with laughs and loud huzzas they make the room 

ring. 
The Dandy astounded, o'erwhelm'd in afright, 
Dropp'd his knife and his fork, and was soon out of sight. 
So the Cit thus reliev'd, pass'd the rest of his stay, 
With his friend pecrc'ably, till they both went their way. 



ESSAY ON DEPENDENCE. 

'Tis long experience shows the mighty host. 
Of those who proudly Independence boast ; 
That men on men dependent still remain. 
And all are links of the one common chain. 
Of this Avorld's wealth tho' some great store possess, 
Still something's wanting to their happiness ; 
This one or that may have the power to grant, 
What most they wish for, or what most they want. 
If our own int'rest to promote we strive, 
We cause, perhaps, another ones' to thrive ; 
For while we're destined in this world to stay. 



DIRECTION TO THE PRECENTOR 23 

Apparent 'tis, clear as the face of day, 
All in a greater or a less degree. 
On some or other live dependently. 
For rich and poor alternate join to show, 
From mutual helps, ease, pleasure, profit flow. 
Such is Dependence, such its daily use, 
We all our comforts from this source deduce. 
But there's dependence of a nobler kind, 
For all depeiuiing on the Eternal mind. 



TIIK WORLD. 



Out on the world — it is a tricking elf, 

And cares for no one but its own sweet self. 



ACTION. 

'Tis a shocking affair, 
Between hope and despair, 

To rest ; 
Then the plan to pursue, 
That advises — to do, 

Is best. 



DIllECTION TO THE PRECENTOR. 

Don't set the tune too high, 
Don't set the tune too low ; 

Don't sing the words too fast. 
Don't sing the words too slow. 

And last of* all, O, wo of woes ! 

Don't sing a tune that no one knows. 

* Air or Song. 



24 MY FIRST WIFE. 

CRIMINAL LAW. 

And shall the Justice of our country sleep, 

Nor from new crimes old rogues and felons keep T 

Nay — but when tri'd, by her impartial breath, 

They're doom'd to fine, imprisonment, or death. 

Thus Judges here the Judge of all obey, 

Nor dread his censure in Heav'ns' judgment day. 



MY FIRST WIFE. 



From the bleak north of Erin's shores, 
Descendant of the Scottish Moores, 

My gentle Alice came ; 
Safely through ocean's trackless maze, 
The little barque her charge conveys. 

The Mary was her name. 

Landed in York, her destin'd place. 
There first I saw her smiling face. 

And lo^t my youthful heart ; 
We look'd, Avc lov'd, ah ! what beside ? 
She soon became my charming bride, 

'Twas nature, 'twas not art. 

Swiftly our blissful moments pass'd. 
Too swiftly unimpaired to last, 

And always prove the same ; 
Three daughters crown'd our nuptial joys, 
An equal complement of boys. 

Three di'd without a name. 

Full twice ten years and three we gain, 
While want or plenty in their train, 

Or vex'd or cheer'd our life; 
And though our children grew apace, 
Death came, the foe of all our race, 

And snatch'd away my wife. 



PHYSIOGNOMY. 85 

What then, was Heav'n unkind ? ah, no ! 
He took her from a world of wo 

And sav'd her by his grace; 
For, she for many a year before, 
Had learn'd her Maker to adore, 

And daily seek his face. 



EPITAPH. 



Alice, I linger here below. 
And count the moments as they flow ; 
Till God shall fit my soul, my love, 
To meet thee in his Heav'n above. 



PHYSIOGNOMY, OR FACIAL SKILL. 

Though some by faces, think to tell 
The secrets of the heart; 

Yet long experience shows it well. 
To be an erring art. 

For nature's dictates pure and free. 
As Heaven at first design 'd ; 

No longer shine conspicuously. 
The index of the mind. 

And mankind, practis'd in deceit. 
With arts their thoughts conceal ; 

Nor will the face detect the cheat. 
Till time the same reveal. 

Mira, to scan aright a face, 

Would ev'ry an defy ; 
Now cloudy 'tis, next clear apace. 

And changes like the sky. 



e« ACROSTIC- 

AN IMPORTANT QUERE, 

If from one vice we should abstain, 
And thereby peace of conscience gain ; 
What peace would on our conscience fall. 
Should we abstain from vices all ? 



THE clerk's advertisement. 

Wanted employment for his pen, 
Immediately, from bus'ness men ; 
In Office, Counting-House or Store, 
In each of which he's wrote before. 
He now has leisure on his hands ; 
And ready and impatient siands, 
To have a kindly invitation, 
To labor in his old vocation. 
Good names for character he'll give, 
As any who in New- York live. 
Those who his services desire, 
Will of the Printer please inquire . 



ACROSTICo 



0-r Home, or Foreign, or both these relations, 
M-ake times bear hard on num'rous occupations , 
A-nd though before our Country's coin had wings, 
N-ow in my pocket low its music sings. 
S-hut up in Banks or in Insurance vaults, 
A-11 efflorescent with their humid salts, 
L-ov'd coin, I cry, why thus increase my pain ? 
M-oney come out — and show thy face again. 
0-r if audacious, thou this summons spurn, 
N-orth River's current on Wall-street I'll turn. 



CURSORY THOUGHTS ON WEDLOCK. 27 

"JOVI QUAM HOMINI FIDERE PR^STAT.'' 

Let things go as they may or can, 
He'd rather trust in God than man.. 



CURSORY THOUGHTS ON WEDLOCK; 

Or tho other side of the picture. — Addressed to Miss J****, after peru- 
sing her elegant eulogium on the " Married State."' 

Oil, happiness, to taste thy peaceful fruits.^ 

Tend all our aims, our labors and pursuits ;. 

But though thy charms the minds of all invite. 

Yet few there are who seek for thee aright. 

Many who've souglit thee otherwise, would fain 

In marriage hope thy blessing to obtain ; 

But few who venture on the marri'd slate, 

But soon or later mourn their ill starr'd fate. 

Some for a handsome face their freedom barter, 

And when too late, they find they've caught a Tartar; 

While some have got an idle spendthrift mate, 

Who in one month would spend a whole estate. 

Some women, truly, do make happy wives, 

And are the comfort of their husbands' lives ; 

But do, my Mary, cast a look around, 

And see, how rarely, these are to be found. 

I can, where you show one tliat's kind and true^ 

Point out a score of idlers to your view ; 

That for one virtue have of vices ten, 

To tease, to plague, nay punish us poor men. 

Whose fair externals, oft contain within 

A treach'rous heart, and prone to ev'ry sin. 

Too partial you to ulter such a stricture, 

You'd only view the one side of the picture. 

Yet know, I think your sentiments are just, 

I( right I've read them; and I humbly trust, 

If you but practise what you'd inculcate, 



THE HONEST LAWYER. 



You'll find a tender, fond, endearing mate. 
Since then no flattery I've used, 
Think not your sex by me abus'd ; 
But in my wish believe me ferv'nt 
Dear Miss, your most Obdt. — Servt. 



EPIGRAM ON A CONVERTED BUTCHER. 

Do you know neighbour John has commenc'd a new life' 

Folks say he's religiously good ! 
I'm sure I'm glad of it — for you know, many years. 

His hand has shed innocent blood. 



THE HONEST LAWYER. 

Tis not a thousand miles from hence. 

Nor thousand years ago, 
When this said farce was carri'd on, 

As we intend to show. 

'Twas in Virginia's sultry clime, 
Where Phoebus fiercely glows 

A Lawyer liv'd, of little note, 
For so our story goes. 

The reason why ? he was full young. 

And also, too take heed ; 
It was not long he had obtain'd, 

A license, for to plead. 

But still, to speak in common phrase, 
All those who knew him, could 

With truth and justice, well pronounce, 
His character was sood,. 



THE HONEST LAWYER. 29 

A Parson to this Lawyer came, 

And begg'd he'd use his art ; 
And aid liim well in an affair, 

Which he had much at heart. 

Says he, " unto one of my flock, 

I owe a trifling sum ; 
For which the man unto my house,. 

Full many a time did come. 

But I some pretext always found, 

To turn him from my door ; 
As saying I would pay next time, 

Or pleading I was poor. 

So when from me he naught could get 

But promises, he saw ; 
He tries another way, and has 

Recourse unto the Law. 

Now I could pay him off o' hand. 

If I were so inclin'd ; 
But that the wretch to sue me dares. 

Doth sorely grieve ray mind. 

1 have already let you know, 

The debt I don't dispute ; 
Yet still 'tis my request to you 

That you defend the suit. 

Inform me then upon what day, 

You find it will commence ; 
I will attend, for it I make, 

A matter of con-sci-ence. 

And, now whatever else remains^ 

That you should do for me ; 
You know already, I suppose. 

So pray, sir, what's your fee ?" 



30 THE HONEST LAWYER: 

A Joe, sir, is the very least, 

I can aflford to take ; 
Oh ! that is too extravagant, 

A Joe ? for mercy's sake ! 

'^ If in this suit you interest 

Your conscience, d'ye see ; 
It is but just that I should have, 

A conscientious fee. 

" Then here it is, and fare you well, 

I'll see )'^ou soon again; 
So do, sir, pray defend tlie suit. 

With all your might and main." 

This said, our Parson soon raov'd off. 

As brisk as any bee ; 
The Lawyer laugh 'd within his sleeve 

yVnd pocketed his fee. 

PART II. 

And now at Court, the day arrived. 
The Lawyer took good care 

To warn his Client, previously. 
So he, of course, was there. 

Then see him stand in open Court, 

Impatiently attending 
To ev'ry suit before his own, 

That in its turn was pending. 

And now in order next came on, 
The suit against him brought. 

While anxious thoughts his mind pervade. 
With expectation fraught. 

So when the ulaintiff's Lawyer urg'd, 
The debt was justly aue; 



THE HONEST LAWYER. 31 

The Parson's Lawyer started up, 
And stood confess'd to view. 

And turning round unto the Court, 

He them did thus address : 
"My Ghent, sirs, the debt does own. 

So judgment I confess." 

But when our Parson this did hear, 

Quite motionless he stood ; 
Surprise had fix'd him firmly as 

A stone or piece of wood. 

Yet from his sad surprise at length, 

Reeov'ring by degrees. 
And o})'d his eyes, as wak'd from sleep, 

The Lawyer near him sees. 

And looking grave he takes his hand, 

And says, " pray tell me, friend ; 
That cause just tri'd, was it the one, 

I feed you to defend?" 

"It was the same, and I suppose 

You heard how it did go ?" 
" I did, and think 'twas illy done,. 

In 3^ou to serve me so." 

" Why, if my racm'ry fail me not. 

Then this be my defence ; 
I think you said, ' this suit I make 

A matter of con-sci-ence." 

" Suppose I had in your defence, 

Got up and li'd a while ; 
As a good man, could you this willi 

Your conscience reconcile ^ 



32 THE HONEST LAWYER 

" Or could you think, that I with it^ 
Thus Hke a knave would trifle; 

Or did you meanly think my own, 
Your paltry Joe could stifle ? 

" Now don't you see that any man, 

Can with a deal of ease, 
No matter what his station is. 

Be honest if he please ?" 

"Enough, enough," the Parson cri'd, 

" I feel I'm rightly serv'd ; 
I own my error, nor deny. 

From rectitude I've swerv'd. 

" And now for what I've learn'd this day, 
My warmest thanks accept ; 

As for your sake it always shall, 
Be in my mem'ry kept." 

And to his praise let it be said. 

He alter'd not his mind ; 
But to our Lawyer ever since 

Has prov'd exceeding kind. 

For 'mongst his friends and neighbors, oft 

He would repeat tlie tale ; 
And they to others we suppose. 

To tell it did not fail. 

For soon this Lawyer's practice came 

To be exceeding great ; 
No doubt it chanc'd from what of him. 

The Parson did relate. 

NtDW hoping both in future will 
Mind well their sev'ral stations ; 

We for the present them will leave 
Uato their meditations. 



YOUTH AND OLD AGE. 33 

Stat nominis umbra. — Junius. 

Lest some should think I too much covet fame, 
Stand an umbrageous for my real name. 

ANOTHER. 

Just so sure as a leaf betokens a tree. 

So let a feisn'd name stand a shadow for me. 



YOUTH AND OLD AGE. 

Swift does the blood through youthful art'ries glide, 
Thrown from life's seat in a plethoric tide ; 
The fruitful source of active limb and mind, 
And quick performance of the thing design'd. 
Sanguine the hopes that wait on ev'ry plan, 
How gay the prospects of the op'ning man ; 
Onward he urges his impetuous way, 
Nor heeds the counsels that advise delay, 
"Oh! stay thy course, converse with men sedate,. 
Lest thou repent thee when it is too late ; 
Nature presents a thousand things that smile 
Which only may be fitted to beguile." 
" I hear thee Age, but honor, pleasure, wealth, 
Court and demand my youthful days of health, 
And till I've fully, fairly tri'd them each, 
To other ears go, Age, thy maxims preach." 



Omne tulit punctum, 

Qui miscuit utile dulci. — Horace. 

If you your readers' minds would fix, 
" The pleasing with the useful mix ;" 
Sure as rheumatics squeeze each joint, 
Old Flaccus says you've gain'd your point. 



34 DISAPPOINTED IN LOVE. 

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM, CORNER OF ANN STREET AND 
BROADWAY, 

Was "founded [A. D.] eighteen hundred ten," 
A rare iiicmenio on ils front, wliat then ? 
The meanmg is, if rightly I presage, 
It is just one and twenty years of age; 
Aye, more than that, I dare and will engage, 
It asks a lib'ral public's patronage. 
Its store so vast, so elegant, so grand, 
'Tis not surpassed by any in our Land. 
Then let it feel its patrons foslVing care. 
Of future favors taste a copious share. 



DISAPPOINTED IN LOVE. 

There is a rash and a fatal road, 
That leads the soul from her mortal abode ; 
Swift as the arrow that speeds from the bow, 
Down to the regions of sorrow and wo. 
Where the music that thrills through those mansions be- 
neath. 
Is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth ; 
And the howling of Devils avenging their pain, 
On the souls whom their malice has cheated and slain. 
Oh horrible sight, oh ponder the thought ; 
The soul is immortal and not form'd for naught, 
But destined by him who eternally reigns, 
For infinite pleasures or infinite pains. 
But now the solemn question's pressing. 
To ask, to answer, how distressing ! 
What baleful influence with seductive power, 
Steals o'er the soul in an unguarded hour; 
Lulls ev'ry fear, and makes it play the knave 
With all its blooming hopes l)eyond the grave? 
Oh could the spirit, that bodiless thing. 
One moment obtain, how, on rapidest wing. 



EPITAPH ON A HARD DRINKER. 35 

It would fly to this earth and the question decide, 

Declaring to all it was mortiji'd pride ! 

Oh pride, thou fall of angels and of men, 

When will God's mercy drive thee to thy den ; 

Thee, and thy father, and thy mother Sin, 

Seal'd up, ye fiends, eternally shut in ? 

And now, ye youths, for some of you I saw 

With silent steps and thoughtful faces draw 

Near to the coffin, gazing through the end, 

At the pale face of your departed friend, 

Now while the sight is present to each eye, 

This warning take from Wisdom's gen'ral cry ; 

" My son, be wise, from ev'ry sin depart. 

And guard, oh guard the issues of thy heart ; 

Secure the friendship of thy God, my son. 

And he'll protect thee from the wicked one. 

Then if grim death should call thee away. 

From thy friends in the morning of life's short day. 

When they're summon'd the last sad tribute to pay, 

With joy in the earih they'll deposit thy clay. 

Not doubting thou wilt at the grand rising morn, 

As his jewel the crown of thy Saviour adorn." 

And, oh, ye fathers, and ye mothers dear. 

Your duty and your interest is clear ; 

Train up your children in a godly way. 

They'll not forget it at a later day. 

Religion, Religion, the soul's main stay, 

When the earth and the sea shall both flee away. 

Possess us through life, that when call'd on to die, 

We may reign with our Saviour triumphant on high. 



EPITAPH ON A HARD DRINKER. 

Can'st tell the reason why in life's fair prime, 
He had to quit the shallow shores of time ? 
Few were his solids, either meat or meal, 
He liv'd by suction, like a lamper eel. 



35 FREE MASONRY. 

WHAT YOU PLEASE. 

I thought I would a piece compose, 
One line in rhyme and one in prose. 

I suppose you need not be told, 

That hot love is soon cold ; 

With grief it also holds good, 

Now in pleasant, next in doleful mood ; 

And truly it ought to be so ; 

For who to himself is so much a foe ; 

To allow incessant grief to destroy, 

All his pleasures all his joy ? 

We should be wretched mortals truly, 

Always to grieve, nor treat life's crosses cooly. 

Has not Nature sufficient charms, 

To lure thee from fell melancholy's arms ? 

Look in any direction jj^ou please, 

All is for your comfort and your ease. 

Dismiss your gloom, then, wear a smiling face, 

Your grief will of itself wear off apace ; 

And unto sorrow joy shall soon succeed. 

And quick eradicate each bitter weed, 

That Avould contentment's genlle growth impede. 



AN ODE ON FREE MASONRY. 

Illum'd by Reason's feebler rays. 
Thus sang the Bard in youthful days. 

When lofty themes themselves present, 
Unto my mind's enlighten'd eye ; 

I would thy pleasing paths frequent, 
Sweet maid whose name is poesy; 

I'd ask thine aid in ev'ry strait, 

Assur'd thou would'st not tell me wrong 



THE HEADLESS SPECTRE. 37 

But gently whisper while I wait, 

" Fond youth I'll help thee in thy song." 

" Say, then," the Heav'n-taught Muse began, 

" They who Religion's truths confes.s. 
Own that she can for fallen man, 

Insure eternal happiness. 
But if all men she can't allure. 

To love their brethren as they ought ; 
Whatever will that end insure, 

Is with the noblest purpose fraught. 

See then, in mystic dress array'd. 

In Masonry 'tis realized; 
'Tis she Religion's cause would aid. 

And make her more than' ever prized. 
She would enforce that great command, 

Which from sent down by Heav'n above, 
And teach all men in ev'ry land, 

Their Brethren as themselves to love." 

Is this, oh! Masonry, thine aim. 

In bonds fraternal to unite ; 
With thy pure precepts to reclaim, 

And bid all men to do aright ? 
Then while on earth man can be found, 

Till night and day shall cease to be ; 
Thine influence still diffuse around, 

And ever flourish Masonry. 



THE HEADLESS SPECTRE, OR THE SOLEMN WARXING, 

Death can send his solemn warning, 
As well at night as in the morning. 

The Mail-man left the office by da}^ 
And jogg'd along on his nag ; 



38 THE HEADLESS SPECTKlT. 

A goodly steed, as judges might say. 
With his well-fill'd Letter Bag. 

His journey lay through a portion fair, 

In a state of culture high ; 
Of land, as good as any in air 

Was view'd by the Eagle's eye. 

His road was such as it pleas'd folks then, 
But not as they now quite are ; 

The trav'ling was by horses and men, 
But not in a Rail-Road Car. 

And now a part of the road he nears, 

Bewooded on either side ; 
'Twas gloomy enough to awaken his fears, 

But he was used to the ride. 

The Moon was shining in lustre, high 

O'er all the country around ; 
And he was lost, as he view'd the sky, 

And buried in thoughts profound. 

Just then he enter'd the wooded place, 
'Twas silent and drear as death ; 

And all Avas calm as the Moon's bright face, 
And the wind blew not a breath. 

Anon he hears behind him the sound 

Of another horse's feet ; 
But he still rides on, nor turns him round ; 

But straightens him in his seat. 

For he thought it might be some traveller, 
Who his side would rather choose ; 

And converse bland to silence prefer, 
And thus each other amuse. 



THE HEADLESS SPECTRE. 39 

But as he rode on, no nearer came 
The sound of the strange horse's feet; 

The distance appear'd to be the same, 
As his ear at first did greet. 

Now by this time he'd arrived mid-way, 

Of the wooded length of road ; 
He turn'd, he saw — but oh what dismay. 

His heart in his visage show'd ! 

He saw — how strange ! 'twas startling to view — 

His own horse's form confess'd ; 
Saddle and bridle and mail-bag too, 

As on his rear it press'-d. 

His own form mounted he saw, astride 

Of the shadow'y horse's back ; 
And indeed 'twas queer to see it ride, 

While the form a head did lack. 

Oh then he gave to his horse the spur. 

And he streak'd it like the wind ; 
Yet clearly he heard the Spectre's whir. 

And the horse's tramp behind. 

But now he had gain'd the open ground. 

Of the wooded road in advance, 
He check'd his horse, and, partly turn'd round. 

He view'd the Spectre askance. 

He'd stopp'd on the edge of the hither lialf, 

Of the wooded road, the sprite ; 
And he set up a horrible laugh, 

And vanish'd from out his sight ! 

PART THE SECOND. 

And now our long tale draws nigh to a close, 
We've made it in rhyme, though we heard it in prose ; 



40 THE HEADLESS SPECTRE. 

And the actors have left this vale of wo, 
Some forty or fifty long years ago. 

- Our mail-man mused on the sight he'd just seen. 
So novel to him — aye, what could it mean ? 
Or came it a foe, or came it a friend, 
Or evil or good did the Spectre portend ? 

If 'twas good, in what, he could not conceive, 

Or what of his comforts, if evil, bereave ; 

So while in his brain such reas'nings pass'd through;. 

The spires of old Gotham were heaving in view. 

He thought in himself. When I've arriv'd there, 
To the house of my friend Gen'ral M*** I'll repair ^ 
I'll tell him my tale of the Headless Sprite, 
And the cause he, mayhap, will resolve of my fright. 

His mail then secured and his horse besides. 
Through streets and through lanes he rapidly glides-; 
The coast being clear, it luas no great while. 
Ere he stood on the stoop of his friend's domicile. 

He knock d at the door, the door open'd wide. 
And closely his friend, quickly stood by his side ; 
What is it, thought he, can the mail-man ail. 
His visage so ghastly, so thoughtful, so pale ? 

" Come in, come in, and, my friend take a seat, 
A ghost hast thou seen ? relate I entreat ; 
Th)^ visage so long, and so pale is thy face, 
Some one thing or other must be out of place !" 

The Mail-man opened his mouth full wide. 
And, his eyes turn'd up, he told of his ride; 
He look'd to the Gen'ral, the cause to explain, 
His looks and his waiting, alas ! were in vain«. 



NEW-YORK. 41 

His friend sold chandlery by the piece or lot, 

Of the law tliat rul'd sprites, his friend ken'd 'em not ; 

So he said if he'd go straightway to bed. 

He'd find all his fears by morning had fled. 

To a Hotel, hard by, he then repairs, 
He ask'd for lodgings, was lighted up stairs ; 
We cannot tell what NVere his dreams thai night, 
Or pleasant they were, or fiU'd with afright. 

By times next morn from his bed he arose. 
And as he was wont, he put on his clothes ; 
He fell down the stairs, and not a Avord spoke 
As they rais'd him up — for his neck was broke. 



FAS EST AB HOSTE DOCERI. 

That good instruction never should be spurn 'd, 
Which may from e'en an enemy be learn'd. 



NEW-YORK, ADDRESSED TO S. WOODWORTII & CO. 

Kind sirs, I greet you on your enterprise; 

You've chose a subject of no trifling size ; 

New- York ! New-York ! and there the mind intent, 

Hangs o'er the words in mute astonishment. 

Search fire and water, next try earth and air. 

To which of these can you New-York compare? 

Was e'er poor Poet in so sad a case ? 

Is it a hill, a mountain, or a place ? 

Pish ! says a Prig in definition skill'd, 

'Tis a small spot of ground with houses fill'd ; 

It crooked lanes and obscure alleys claims, 

And streets abundant with all sorts of names, 

Two rapid rivers, Hudson and the Sound, 



4:2 NEW-YORK. 

Join'd with fam'cl Harlem, close it in all round. 
This is New- York, pray is the picture true ? 
Why all the length that you have gone, 'twill do ;. 
But if Grace Church is not without a steeple, 
Then surely, sir, you have forgot the people. 
Who o'er its streets in busy masses trip. 
From Broadway's height, down to the Whitehall slip; 
Nor have their arts, nor theirdevices shown, 
/. By which they rich and opulent have grown; 

Nor nam'd those piles which strike the raptur'd view 

Built for Religion, bus'ness, pleasure too, 

Ah, Poet ! now I ween what you're about. 

You from your theme v^^ould spin a poem out. 

Now, Poet, take not thou my words amiss, 

I have no head for such a work as this. 

Yet listen, sir, until my plan you hear, 

For should you have no head ! you have an ear. 

Yes, you are right, I feel my mind soar high, 

And view the subject with a Poet's eye. 

New-York ! I hail thee, destin'd by the fates. 

The future Mistress of the United States, 

Thy noble rivers and thy spacious bay. 

Where four gay isles imbedded in it lay ;. 

Placed near the sea, afford a safe retreat. 

To the lone ship, or to the num'rous fleet. 

There have I seen alternately unfurl'd, 

Tlie waving glory of the trading world. 

Oh could fell war with its dire evils cease, 

And the tired world enjoy an honest peace ; 

Then would Europa's stately barks resort, 

With precious burdens to thy friendly port ;. 

And waft away from out thy teeming stores,. 

Thy surplus produce to far distant shores. 

And sister states their wonted gains pursue, 

And pour their wealth through ev'ry avenue ; 

From Orleans' Island to the Mountain green, 

Into thy lap, O thou mercantile Queen ! 

So, sir, what think you of this rhapsody I 

Oh, quite poetic, sir, 'twixtyou and me^ 



DISCORD. 43 

But, pray, where are you minded it shall go ? 

Why to New-York— "To S. Woodworth & Co." 

Say, hav'nt you noticed what a dashing caper^ 

They've lately cut in the Mercantile paper ? 

Yet to their praise let it be said, they're wise, 

They all the credit won't monopolize. 

Then where's the harm if we cut in along, 

And help them out in their intended song ? 

If it should but the public ordeal pass, 

'Twill give a name more durable than brass.* 

Then let chaste poetry for ever live, 

And in your Book to Kelmonezer give 

A little niche, a little sprig of bay. 

And he's rewarded for his well-meant lay. 



A LAW MAXIM, VERSIFIED. 

Lex neminem cogit ad vana seu impossibilia. 

The law forces no one, neither woman nor man. 
To do any thing vain, or beyond what they can. 



ROGUES FALLING OUT. 

When rogues fall out, don't be affrighted,^ 
For honest men will then be righted. 



mscoRD. 



Malignant, cruel, fierce, outrageous clashings. 
Compare we to infernal lightning's flashings. 

* AUre pereiujium. 



44 THE CORRECT LAWYER. 

GREATER AND LESSER THINGS. 

All lesser must to greater things give way, 
And be postpon'd until some later day. 



NOT AT HOME. 

Whence came the custom, or from Greece or Rome, 

To bid the servants say "he's not at home ?" 

While he to whom the master v^^as denied. 

Knew well, full well, the instructed servant lied. 

But let it come from far, or whence it will, 

The odious practice is in being still. 

Could we not name of would-be great men scores, 

Who send this lying message to their doors ? 

Oh what a precious lesson for our youth, 

By times to teach them lo belie the truth ! 

And do her bonds, involve no crime when broke, 

Those sacred bonds which they treat as a joke ? 

Yet once a learned Jewish King decreed. 

Naught could in strength the naked truth exceed. 

Himself the Truth our Saviour too declares. 

And where's the man to contradict him dares ? 

Think then, ye liars, in the world to come. 

Shall Heav'n or Hell be your enduring home ? 



THE CORRECT LAWYER; OR A GENERAL RULE WITHOUT 
AN EXCEPTION. 

Hav'nt you heard folks say since you came out o' school, 
Without an exception there's no general rule ! 
Yet this you will own or the grammar discard, 
The ^^ gamma'''' in Greek )^ou must always sound hard. 
The Lawyer an assertion made, 
The Judge soon stopp'd him short ; 



EPITAPH. 45 



The Lawyer prov'd the judge was wrong, 
By the above retort. 
When you on matters of import decide, 
Don't let your terms be too unquahfied. 



CICERO SAYS THAT TEARS SOON DRY UP. 

So small is the containing cup, 
Tears last not long, but soon dry up. 



FRIENDLY TERMINATION OF A DISPUTE. 

There let it in perpetual silence lie, 

Till you, and I, and all the world shall die. 



Body ! with others 'tis thy lot, 

To moulder here in church-yard dust ; 
Sleep on, thou shalt not be forgot, 

When the last trumpet wakes the just. 



ANOTHER. 



Our life is a vapor, quick passing away, 
But Faith is a taper, by whose shining ray. 
The City we view, at the end of the race, 
Where God and the Lamb, are the light of the place.. 



4o AN ELEGY. 

AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 

Assist Melpomene, thou weeping muse ; 
Do not fair mourner the sad call refuse ; 
But let thy tears and mine conjointly flow, 
To pay the tribute which to worth we owe. 

Ah then he's gone the way of all our world! 
Death's greedy tyrant, at his bosom hurl'd 
The fatal dart that stopp'd his vital breath, 
And seal'd his eyelids in the sleep of death. 

Thus some tall tree that graced the mountain's brow, 
Beneath the woodman's fatal axe lies low ; 
In manhood's vigor just prepar'd to bloom, 
So fell this yovuh and met his early tomb. 

Kind Nature, lavish of her charms, bestow'd 

A winning form where manly beauty glow'd ; 

But nobler beauties far his mind possess'd. 

With truth, with virtue, and with knoAvledge bless'd. 

Alas ! that form so comely in our sight. 

Is now no longer fitted to delight ; 

The spirit's flown, and who can tell us where ? 

Yet Heav'n-born hope forbids us to despair. 

O'er him fair friendship shed the falling tear, 
To him thy sacred name was ever dear ; 
Firm to the test his noble soul stood true. 
With gen'rous ardor paid affection's due. 

A friend he had — 'lis now his mournful lot 

In silent grief to view the lonely spot. 

Where his friend's pale, extended corpse lies bound, 

By Death's strong fetters in the clay-cold ground. 

But Hope, fair Hope revives the aching soul, 
Where grief and sorrow reign'd without control : 



EPITAPH. 47 

Points lo the joys that are reserv'd in store, 
By Nature's God whom virtue's sons adore. 

Yes, much lov'd youth, thy God himself prepares 
A sure reward, rehef from all thy cares ; 
Methinks I see thy spirit wing its flight, 
Up to the realms of never-fading light. 

Then fare the well, thou dear departed shade ; 
Remembrance fond shall oft impart her aid ; 
Ingenuous sorrow well perform her part, 
To keep thy mem'ry fix'd within my heart. 



EPITAPH ON A CERTAIN SEA CAPTAIN. 

Full oft he cross'd the raging main. 
To India's clime and back again ; 
But since his voyage of life is o'er, 
Let's meet him on fair Canaan's shore. 

ANOTHER. 

We all must to 

The world of spirit* go, 
And dwell in endless bliss 

Or endless wo ; 
Yet he who in 

His Maker's favor dies, 
Shall live to reign 

With him above the skies. 

ANOTHER. 

Long her patient spirit bore 
Her Heavenly father's rod ; 

Till he bade that spirit soar. 
To the embraces of its God. 



48 FORTUNE'S TWO HANDS. 

ON THE DEATH OF A RELIGIOUS LADY OF THIS CITY 

Greedy Death, pale terror's king, 

Bends his bow and draws the string ; 

Swift the unerring arrow flies, 

And in her breast transiix'd it hes. 

But not her soul, oh Death 's thy prize ! 

It claims its mansion in the skies ; 

Then, monster, boast thy wondrous skill, 

Of the dead body take thy fill ; 

Till from the grave high Heaven's king. 

Bid it mount up on swiftest wing. 

All beauteous as the first born sons of light, 

And meet its soul with glory beaming bright. 

To taste that bliss whicli was, as Truth has said, 

For such prepared before our world was made. 



EPITAPH ON A DEPARTED WIFE. 

Thus, dearest, we our Maker's call obey. 

And thus the living turns to lifeless clay ; 

Since then thou'st 'scap'd this world of wo and pain, 

May Heav'n our " loss make thine eternal gain." 



FORTUNE S TWO HANDS; INDUSTRY AND FRUGALITY, AN 
APOTHEGM VERSIFIED. 

Fojtune alike with other dames 

A right as well as left hand claims ; 

For Industry her right is fam'd. 

Frugality her left is nam'd. 

And would folks heed this as they should, 

Less oft they'd call her bad than good. 



ORATORY. 49 

ORATORY OF THE FORUM AND THE PULPIT. 

In books both sacred and profane we're told, 

How high they vahied Orators of old ; 

To hear Demosthenes 'gainst Philip thunder, 

You with the sage Athenians would wonder, 

How words and gestures skilfully combined. 

Possess such power to captivate the mind. 

That e'en the coward while his voice he hears, 

Thinks but of Philip and forgets his fears ; 

And list'ning hosts cry, as a single man, 

Perish the haughty Macedonian ! 

Pass we from Greece and now on Roman earth, 

That far famed land, which gave great Cicero birth, 

And in the Senate seated — see him rise. 

While all attentive fix on him their eyes. 

He speaks to CataUne, who, lost to shame, 

Would wrap Rome's city in the midnight flame. 

Next to the Senate — arm, for danger's nigh, 

And shortly you or Cataline must die. 

Deep in their minds his pond'rous words descend ; 

Fierce they survey their foe and pleas'd their friend. 

On] rush their legions with impetuous roar. 

The abandon'd Cat'line falls to rise no more. 

But while we grant to Greece and Rome their due, 

Still other lands have had their speakers too ; 

How many Orators does Britain boast, 

Her indigenes say what a mighty host ? 

And were we vain, we'd ask. Do any foil 

The nervous speakers of our native soil ? 

Yet ere the subject to a close we dravi^. 

We'll view the champions of another law ; 

Thousands have plead for justice, yet, forsooth, 

Millions have pleaded in the cause of truth. 

Among the last behold the Apostle Paul, 

Stand forth truth's champion in the Praetor's hall ; 

And while he hears him of the Judgment treat, 

How the stern Roman trembles in his seat ! 

Mark his reply : " For this time go thy way, 

E 



50 THE FIRE PIPE. 

I'll hear thee of this thing another day." 

In Truth's fair cause how keen his every word, 

Like a dividing, piercing, two-cdg'd sword! 

Apollos too, how eloquent his tongue ! 

What list'ning thousands on his accents hung! 

A simple tale hear Kephas next impart, 

Three thousand souls are smilten to the heart !' 

Such were the Christain Orators of old. 

Who nobly plead for Truth and not for gold. 

Oh, we would feel ourselves supremely bless'd. 

If of such gen'rous, ardent souls possess'd : 

Yet if we can't such excellence attain, 

Why should we count our labor wholly vain ? 

There's set before us as a mark — a prize. 

To which it is our privilege to rise ; 

In goodness there are depths, and lengths, and heights,. 

To which Religion all of us invites. 

Her once attain'd we all our force should bend. 

Fair Truth in words and actions to defend ; 

For her the powers of speech should cultivate. 

Till Heav'n promote us to a better state. 



THE FIRE PIPE. 

Or grave anuisenieut of the Fathers of the City of Gotham, some ten 
or twelve years agone, as enacted by them in committee of the whole. 

Each one in his senses most freely consents. 

That Fire's the fiercest of all elements. 

The Earth may fall on you, and crush you to death, 

And immers'd in the water 'twill soon stop your breath ; 

To be sure you may now and then suffer from air, 

But with Fire's fell influence naught can compare. 

Yet while this assertion with boldness we make. 

We enter this caveat, pray don't mistake. 

We mean nothing more than the fire of matter, 

Which if ta'en as a former succumbs to a latter ; 



THE FIRE PIPE. 51 

With case a few Engines the first may control, 

But who can extinguish that fire — the soul ? 

Now here let who will, we will not engage, 

]3ut solely to hint, not instruct this wise age ; 

We have Newtons enough, who could all the day long, 

Hidden causes explain, or in prose, or in song. 

Then aAvay to the point we'd have chiefly in hand ; 

And ihou Fancy be still, and thou Fact take command. 

A monstrous uproar — lately chanced in our City, 

At lohich some cried shame, others said 'twas a pity, 

On some night of the month which has now pass'd away, 

All the bells rang for fire, but not for a fray. 

Yet just so it happen'd, and who could prevent it, 

And who will pretend to say who it was sent it ? 

Tiiough we all know this world is abundant in crosses. 

And underlings quarrel and so do their Bosses ; 

As His with two persons so His with a nation, 

"Twas a quarrel before, now an accommodation ; 

And with the old Sage, with the same eyes we sec, 

And cry, " oh 'tis pleasant for friends to agree !" 

Then the breach being heal'd and no longer existing. 

And all is fair play, and no turning nor twisting, 

We'll view the whole ground, as wound up in a frolick, 

In which were Dram. Per., the whole "lot and tetolick," 

Of Bosses 'bove Bosses whose right is undoubted, 

To "round and to bound" when they Discord have 

routed ; 
In a twinkling they all now with one voice agree, 
To resolve the whole House 'to a Pipe Committee ! 
Then the Pipe being screiv''d on, ah, ever so tight. 
Number Two grasp'd it hold with his hand call'd his right, 
Clean out we will play her, says he, at this meeting. 
All the while his dexterity each one was greeting. 
Then up stepped number Nine, and began to complain, 
"The Pipe is too loose, screw, it pray sirs, again." 
The Pipe was screw'd up, and how wond'rous to mention. 
Its performance excited a gen'ral attention ! 
Next ca?ne number Three, and the Pipe felt andview'd, 
For himself and the rest 'twas by far too tiglit screw'd. 



52 THE FIRE PIPE. 

So he moved that some others would take it straiglit way. 
And show him their art and their secret to play. 
Then, as though he'd been calVd on by name to the Pipe, 
Number Four stretch'd his hand, and with a strong gripe. 
He twisted it round, and its cliarge, without grace 
Flew straight as an arrow into number Three's face ). 
And did number Three fly into a passion ? 
No, no, let me tell you, he's not got that fashion; 
But he courteously cried as a man to his brother, 
*'Fire away, my brave fellow, and give us another.'^ 
But what were his motives, if wrong or if right, 
We never did ask him, why so impolite. 
As not to oblige number Three with that douse, 
He crav'd for himself and some more of the House ? 
But no doubt this was solv'd by his Honor the Second, 
Who a skilful Pipe-7??o'n has been hitherto reckon'd, 
He with luonted suavity stretch'd his hand out. 
And with a small touch turn'd the pipe quite about, 
That Seven consented is certainly plain; 
It is right, he exclaim'd, and so let it remain. 
And in this he was aided as quick as a flas-h. 
By a Pipe-man whose name is. conceaFd by a dash. 
At the Pipe number Three once again gave a look — 
Not straight, " it is certain," it has a huge crook. 
Unless some of the Pipe-men will speedily mend it, 
I fear their exertions will more and more bend it. 
Number Nine thought the crook he could plainly discern, 
" Just there — in that spot — see the Pipe has a turn." 
Four Pipe-mew who acted as Stewards for all, 
Averr'd that it wanted no mending at all ! 
Number Nine in a partner was now left to scan. 
What many men knew, he'd mistaken his "Man.'' 
Number Seven would have it acknowledg'd on all hands,. 
The Pipe is just right in the way that it now stands. 
And now number Three rose up as before. 
But his Honor the First, would not let him speak more„ 
And the rest of the Pipe-men he had to petition, 
Who very good humour'dly granted permission, 
And then he proceeded to show with much force 



MY SECOND WIFE. 53 

That the pipe must be straighten'd, yes, straighten'd of 

coarse. 
Number S.even could not understand, by the by. 
That the pipe was too low, or the pipe was too high, 
Then a Steward stepp'd up and declar'd to all round, 
That the pipe was both straight, both solid and sound. 
Whereupon being tired and sated with play. 
They ordered the pipe to be taken away, 
And to let the folks know by means of i\\c'\x papers, 
That in peace \\\G.y had ended their wat'ry capers. 



CHOIIUS OMNIUM. 



Then success to the Pipe, and to those who attend it, 
All ranks high and low are bound to defend it ; 
Far off be the time, and still farther than tlien, 
[t ever shall suffer from water or men. 



MY SECOND WIFE ; OR EARLY COURTSHIP. A SONNET. 

Fanny is the girl for me, 
Brisk she is as any bee ; 
Always cheerful, always gaj^ 
Blooming as the flowVs of May. 

Never sullen, never pouting, 
Never angry, never flouting ] 
Laughing, singing all the day 
Driving grief and care away. 

Giddy, yet her heart is true, 
Loving me as is my due ; 
For she well knows that I mean, 
To make her my httle Queen. 



SECOND COURTSHIP. 

Hymen, come with lighted torch^ 
Lead us to thy Temple's porch ;. 
Join our hearts and join our hands, 
In thy soft endearing bands. 

With her care shall flee away, 
Happy I both night and day ; 
With her " brisk as any bee," 
Fanny is the girl for me. 



MY SECOND COURTSHIP OF MY PRESENT WIFE,. 

But there are bars to diff'rent things,. 

To cause them to miscarry ; 
For sure it does not always chance, 

To WOO, and then to marry. 

A mother, in her dotage, oft 
Between the parties stands ; 

And thwarts their fondest wishes, by 
Persuasions, or commands. 

And so she was, she whom I would 

Have made my little wife ; 
Persuaded by her mother dear,. 

To lead a single life. 

But Providence whose wise designs. 

We mortals cannot scan ; 
Removed her mother from this world, 

And left behind my Fan. 

Years after years had roll'd away, 

With me a married man ; 
And she a single woman still, 

I mean my little Fan. 



m 



PUFFING. 55 

Then Providence as He saw fit, 

Deprived me of my male ; 
And left me sorrowing and forlorn 

To prove a widow'd state. 

Soon tired of that I look'd about, 

To find another she ; 
Companion for myself, and who 

Would rule my family. 

And who so fit as my first love, 

The serious charge to take ; 
And where among her sex, could I» 

A choice more prudent make ? 

I came, I saw, I ask'd consent. 

With naught to intervene ; 
Consent she gave to be my bride, 

To be my little Queen. 

And now behold, on yonder shore 

We lead a tranquil life ; 
And there she looks to end her days, 

The Poet's happy wife. 



PUFFING. 
IMPORTANT ! ! ! TO THE AMATEURS OF THE FINE ARTS. 

Don Emanuel, Antonio Dc Biscarrolaso, 
No. 72 Wall-street, 

Takes this method to show he's a finished professor, 
As a Tonsor, frizzeur, or in English, Hair-Dresser, 
And that, having previously sent out his Card, 
He has gain'd from the Ladies and Gents, much regard. 
For which he expresses a grateful emotion, 



56 THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 

And lenders his aid with all needful devotion ; 
Though he thinks he may here with much justice insist, 
That he spurns at the name of a vile egotist. 
Yet his merit, though some may be ignorant of it, 
And as he hy it wishes each one may profit ; 
Imperiously forces, or like it or lump it, 
Himself, honest fellow, to blow his own trumpet. 
His friends and the public he therefore informs. 
That with quacks his profession is crowded in swarms. 
But their arts he despises, as he, modest creature, 
Is a Tonsor sans art, for he is one by nature! 
And he those endowments, believe him the fact is. 
Has improv'd by a long course of study and practice. 
As from Spain he came o'er three months since in a Brig, 
He knows the true cut of his Majesty's wig ; 
And besides he's retain'd in his head with much care. 
The curl of his whiskers, aye, e'en to a hair! 
And though to your heads not a hair now attaches. 
He'll supply you with mammoth or some other scratches. 
But among his perfections, which all must admire, 
He ranks his attention to please you much higher. 
Besides he convinces the most careless gazers. 
That the phiz is improv'd by his tongs and his razors; 
But in this his abilities have not been wanted. 
For on his own word, you may take it for granted, 
That his practice has hitherto been among faces. 
Too good to admit of his polish and graces ! ! ! 



THE NEWS CARRIERS NEW YEARS ADDRESS TO HIS PA' 
TRONS, 1828. 

One night I dreani'd I learned the Printer's trade. 

Or occupation, as I might have said ; 

And furthermore methought a brother chip, 

Enter'd my window with a sudden skip ; 

Fast by my side he stood: good! good ! he said,. 

One way or other still you help the trade . 



THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 57 

While some from care, in sleep, find sweet release, 

You furnish copy for Hal's New Year's piece. 

Come let us hear how far you have progress'd, 

And how repaid you for your want of rest ! 

*' While snugly seated round the enlivening fire, 

Bless'd with each comfort which your hearts desire ; 

Say can )^ou deem fond Hal's intention rude, 

One moment on your patience to intrude ? 

That he intends to tell you, don't suppose 

In plaintive accents of unreal woes ; 

This thought's removed far from his honest heart, 

He scorns to act a vile deceiver's part." 

" Now this reads well, your verse sounds wond'rous 

mellow, 
But let me tell you Hal's a pleasant fellow ; 
And knoAvs the views and wishes of his patrons, 
Differ as wide as maidens do from matrons. 
What would you then ? no plan is sketch'd by Hal, 
To make his piece, or grave, or comical. 
Now mark me well, and don't mistake, my Boy, 
But keep a steady eye on Hal's employ. 
Aye, now I think your meaning well I ken, 
See how- it drops so freely from my pen ! 
You'd have me say, ' Kind Patrons once a year. 
With gladsome heart I at yoi"ir doors appear. 
To say your papers I have left each week ; 
And a small tribute now I come to seek ! 
Indeed I almost claim it as my due, 
ITpon reflection you must tliink so too. 
For think the day such freedom must excuse. 
This New Year is — can any then refuse ? 
This once let gen'rous action bear the sway. 
You can to Hal make this a happy day ; 
Then shall he, sway'd by gratitude profound, 
Make merry New Year in your ears resound, 
And thus express the feelings of his heart : 
Kind friends — hear these good wishes ere we part," 
Till now I took you for a man of sense, 
And deem'dyou guiltless of such high offence ; 



58 THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 

Against llic laws which composition aims, 

To keep infracted from perversion's claims." 

" Oh had I Selinis* mind and Selim's fire, 

I would be ev'ry thing yon could desire ; 

Selim, my love, thou art a princely printer. 

Outshining me as summer does the winter !" 

"Eh man — what has the eagle wing'd S'e-lim, 

To do with you, or you to do with him ? 

Why vex me thus ? your sense I say is stufl', 

All that Hal wants is ' nummi quantum suff.' 

Grant it — and yet, without intent to offend, 

You have begun just w^here you ought to end. 

^^'ould you advise me then to play the trickster. 

And make what's quaintly call'd a hixtcr mixtcr? 

Certes, you're right, the Paper is your mark. 

There frisk and carrol like a meadow lark ! 

Imprimis then, don't fail to mention Greece, 

Or Hal most surely will reject your piece. 

That Greece whose classic soil so oft I've trod, 

With Homer, Xenophon and Hesiod ? 

How chang'd, how altered from thy former state. 

Thou 'rt little now, though once they call'd thee Great /t 

But thy long agony will soon be o'er, 

And, Turk Ibrahim waste thy plains no more. 

And, when, in peace thou sitt'st beneath thy vine, 

Then think my country was a friend of thine." 

Enough of her thou'st giv'n old Greece her due, 

Now of her master Turk let's hear a few. 

" Long had the Turk rul'd o'er fair Grecia's land, 

And sway'd his sceptre with an iron hand ; 

And did her sons bui murmur and complain. 

Then still more galling made the Turk her chain, 

Till Nature's point Avas pass'd, when lo ! she rose 

In all her vengeance on her cruel foes. 

Yet had they crush'd her with their barb'rous might, 

And hurl'd her headlong to eternal night ; 

But other lands beheld with pitying eyes. 

Her wasting strength, and heard her piercing cries. 

* Woodworth. t Mngna Grcrcia. 



THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. &9 

Her first lielp came, all on the briny flood, 

And Navarino tells a tale of blood ! 

Troni his cold clime the Russian came at length, 

And luuTd his gauntlet with resistless strength. 

Now feels the Turk, and to his cost he knows, 

They are no triflers who his rage oppose ; 

The ball may err, they on the charge depend ; 

This brings the combat to a speedy end. 

But on the Scimetar the Turks rely, 

And strive to cut the feem'ral artery. 

Then life's full cun^ent issues from each wound, 

And Turks and Russians press ih' ensanguined ground. 

Accounts assert, with slaughter Varna's taken. 

So far the frontier strength of Balkan's shaken." 

" Bi-avo, my Boy! that's your true tragic style. 

And almost equals Dr. Mitchcl'syF/e. 

But wh)"- are Tiu-ks such devils when in battle ?" 

" Opium they chew in quantity, like cattle; 

And then their Priests assure them when they die 

They shall not sink below, but mount on high 

With Heroes, Houris, Mahomet to dwell. 

Your Turkish Soldier looks for Heaven — -not Hell. 

Fate is his creed, none other he receives, 

0\A Homer's doctrine every Turk believes. 

But is it true, as I have heard it hinted, 

Tiicy Avrite their works, but never have them printed ? 

Printers on Christians value, but the Turks — 

They're your true patrons, oh, ye needy clerks ! 

Which choose you then, or Cit, or rustic clown, 

The Russian pallium, or the Turkish gown ? 

What say 3'ou now to take a trip to Spain ? 

Or shall we pass to Pedro's vast domain. 

Pedro's a bad man, and I do not like him, 

And were he here, I really b'licvc — Pd strike him ; 

He kick'd his wife while in a certain state, 

Which quickly seal'd in death her mortal fate. 

But should her Sire of Austria send a fleet. 

With red hot balls his ports and shores to greet; 

About his ears he'd kick up such a racket. 



60 THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 

I would not for his realm be in his jacket. 

Well, there's Mig'el, pray what of him d'ye think ? 

Wliy, that he's hardly worth the waste of ink. 

Kingship for him can surely have no charms, 

Whom treason's wiles continually alarms ; 

What love or duty can his subjects show, 

While all his prisons with their friends o'erflow ? 

E'en England too, erst his decided friend. 

Her wonted aid no longer now will lend ; 

And like Belshazzar, horribly afraid, 

Mig'el despairing, cries out, ' I'm betray'd !' 

And now that I had Robertson's balloon, 

To waft me home before next Monday noon ! 

Correct — let who will censure or applaud, 

I say our Country calls us from abroad ; 

Gladly let's quit that chaos of events, 

Which such a tissue of earth's woes presents. 

And oh, my Country, when thy state I view, 

I'd call thee happy if thou only knew, 

Grateful to be and properly to prize, 

That sweetest, noblest blessing of the skies ; 

Thy blood-earn'd boon — fair Liberty ! oh may 

She Heaven's daughter ever with us stay! 

Fled are the scenes of sorrow and of pity, 

Then let's pursue the vag'ries of our City. 

Now, by the by, though 'tis no high concern, 

I, if you please, from you would wish to learn : 

If 'tis a practice with your author's chaste, 

Or if 'tis only a mere freak of taste : 

First to treat subjects whose import is grave. 

And lighter themes until their end to save? 

'Tis so of plays, and is of standing long. 

First comes the Goats,* and then the Village song. 

Thou speak'st of plays, hast ever been at plays ? 

Aye, marry have I, in my younger days ! 

Full many a time I've been at old /o/m-street, 

And there have quaff'd the racy, luscious treat; 

* Tragos, a Goat ; and Hodai, a song. 
Kornai, a Village ; and Hodai, a song. 



THE NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. CJ 

Serv'd by the rarest actors of their time, 
Garricks and Siddons both in prose and rhjane. 
The caustic Hallam, oft I've seen him feign 
The Prince, his master-piece, the crazy Dame ; 
And Hodgkinson, though not in person hght, 
Was vastly taking in the Carmehte ! 
And Mehnoth too created heart-felt joy. 
When in her arms she clasp'd her Villeroy ! 
Tyler would almost make j'-ou crack your cheeks, 
To hear him sing of Rcnard and his freaks. 
And Mrs. Johnson, hov^^ she pleased the^beaus, 
When she appear'd dress'd in our sex's clothes ! 
Aye, those w^ere times vv^hich time has swept away, 
And the same fate awaits the present day ! 
How time's progressions all of us affect. 
Young men look forward, old men retrospect! 
Pray, have you seen the Eidophusicon?* 
Part of the way, but not the stage upon. 
They say the scenery's imposing, grand ! 
Surpassing that of any other land ! 
Then has New- York without the least contention, 
Strong claims t'excel in any new invention. 
Suppose we visit next the Museum, 
And see the sights, both dead, and deaf, and dumb, 
And if we stop at Scudder's in rotation. 
We'll see the largest one in all our Nation ! 
But what is that, which whirls and whirls again, 
I mean that thing within yon windoAv's pane ? 
Brother, for shame, you surely are purblind, 
Read but the motto, and its use you'll find. 
Mercy, what sums, what splendid lots of Cash, 
To prop the House, which else would go to smash, 
Hark ! heard you that noise ? I know his voice — 
'Twas Hal's — quickly, or you are not his choice. 
" Health to that man, whose gen'rous feeling mind, 
By virtue's taught, by charity's inclind. 
Long may he live to taste the happy fruits, 

* Eido, I sec ; and Phiisis, nature. 
F 



62 A NATIONAL SONG, 

Attending always virtuous pursuits ; 

When here he's finish'd all his works of love, 

May Angels hail him in the realms above !" 

Chip snatch'd the paper, through the window fiew> 

And quick as lightning vanish'd from my view* 



FATE. THE SENTIMENT FROM THE REV. TIMOTHY 

DWIGHT, VERSIFIED. 

Say what is fate ? and hath it ne'er occurr'd 
Unto your mind, 'tis simply but a word ! 
What is its meaning, what doth it imply ? 
Why, nothing, sir, methinks I hear one cry, 
Search and perceive, then tell if thou canst find. 
It ever other meaning had in thine own mind 1 
But meaning give it, it becomes of course 
God, of all goodness the prolific source ! 



A GRAND NATIONAL SONG FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY 1814, 
RECITATIVE. 

The serious observer discerns without doubt. 
That the vials of wrath on this earth are pour'd out \ 
For the sad overturnings in different climes. 
Speak in accents of thunder, "the signs of the times." 
For the offspring of Ham, and his good brother Shem, 
A large share of dire wrath has been pour'd out on them, 
Next the storm fell on Japheth, from Heav'n offended, 
Cross'd the Atlantic, and on us too's descended. 

AIR. 

Genius of our native land, 

Why dost thou musing, pensive stand ? 



A NATIONAL SONG. 63 

Why dost thou not on this glad day, 

Bid us abound in sport and play ? 

Columbia's sons, how can it be 

Our hearts should long for sport and glee ; 

While Heaven's fierce wrath against our Nation burns, 

And land and seas, drink up our blood by turns ? 

RECITATIVE. 

Now those who in anger to the Jews were once given. 

The Kings, in Europa by jealousy driven ; 

Quick arouse their dread legions, and spoil her repose, 

While fell tyrants to tyrants the battle oppose. 

Britannia, Hispania, and Portugal here, 

Drive the French swift before them and press on their 

rear. 
There the Russian, and Prussian, and Germanic powers, 
Enter Paris in triumph, and shout "France is ours !" 

AIR. 

Genius, wherefore all this strife, 

In this our short uncertain life ; 

Why, in a dire relentless mood. 

Do Christians spill each other's blood? 

'Tis passing strange, yet it is so. 

That man to man's his greatest foe. 

Yet know, since you the cause of wars inquire, 

Ambition plans, oppression lights the fire. 

RECITATIVE. 

If 'twas folly in France, though with armies immense. 
To offend the Sea's mistress on any pretense ; 
Did her cries about Liberty, nothing avail, 
And all her great projects eventually fail; 
Then, how dare our Americans lift up the hand, 
To smite the bold Britons, both by sea and by land, 
Say from us will they patiently brook this disgrace ; 
Or indignantly hurl us from off the earth's face ? 



64 A NATIONAL SONG 

AIR. 

Genius, do pray tell us all, 

While Nations rise, why do they fall ? 

Do you with toil and vast expense, 

Amass the things of time and sense ; 

Why wonder, if at any rate 

A Nation will be rich and gi-eat : 

That lux'ry 'gender'd from con'uplion's heap, 

Should plunge her headlong down Destruction's steep. 

RECITATIVE. 

Let our Nation be good, and she's nothing to fear, 
For still He who rules armies and battles is near, 
To protect and defend all who on him rely, 
And so loe may the world and old Satan defy. 
May our great men be good men, and all, high and low, 
Prove the joys that fair Virtue alone can bestow; 
And enjoy each return of this day thankfully. 
From all wars and commotions for ever set free. 



PROTOCOL TO ACCOMPANY THE FOREGOING SONG. 

Now what is this mine eyes behold ? 

Do see yon Knight in black ; 
How very slow he jogs along, 

And then his reins, how slack f 

What is that thing roll'd up behind^ 

All on his saddle-tree ? 
The hist'ry of his life perhaps, 

Or horse's pedigree. 

But let's accost him as he nears, 
And learn the whole affair ; 



NAVAL VICTORIES. 65 

" Pray, courteous Knight, where journeyest thou, 
And what's thy business there ?" 

" My name is Kelmonezer, sirs, 

To Philadelphia fair; 
I'm journeying on to meet the Knights, 

Whom Old school summoned there." 

" Oh, sir, a month's already pass'd, 

Your journey's all in vain ; 
Twelve Knights were there, and fought it out, 

And have gone home again." 

" But still I trust I'm not loo late ; 

Unless my mem'ry's wong , 
Oldschool in his Portfolio said 

Each left behind a song. 

And further, he finds fault with all, 

And reasons doth assign ; 
As how they want some qualities. 

Which he may find in mine. 

So gentle sirs, good day to you. 

My charger wants to go ;" 
" Success, Sir Knight ; and may Oldschool 

On you the prize bestow." 



A bird's eye view of our late naval victories, 1814. 

" The American Sailor — In battle terrible, in victory modest and iiu- 
mane." Fifteenth toast at the Naval Dinner given to Lieutenant 
McCall and the surviving Officers of the U. S. Brig Enterprise, 
Charleston, 15th October, 1813. 

Near eighteen months of war have roll'd away — 
What then ? hear what the Poet has to say ! 



G6 NAVAL VICTORIES. 

" The Summers past, and Winter in his place, 

Comes on with dreary and with turgid face ; 

With all his train of frost, and hail, and snow, 

And weary troops to winter-quarters go." 

Mark ye, he speaks of war ! now he proceeds — 

" Muse, tune thy lay, and chant those val'rous deeds. 

Of late achiev'd against that haughty nation, 

Who fighting makes her daily occupation ; • 

Those deeds, which lift my Comitry to the skies, 

And fill the distant nations with surprise ! 

Yet for minutiae, be the task assign'd 

To some more daring, persevering mind ; 

Be thou content in generals to deal. 

In admonition and aJarupt appeal. 

Say then, what think those swagg'ring Britons novv, 

How can they bear to Yankee tars to bow ? 

' Oh, shame,' they cry, ' oh death and foul disgrace, 

To be thus beaten by a mushroom race !' 

Say how each member at St. James's feels. 

While Sloops and Frigates must be dash'd from Steele's. 

Won't the proud tyrants learn, that Yankee tars 

Are men, Avhile fighting under thirteen stars ? 

The Gurriere, Java, Macedonian stout. 

The Boxer, Frolic, Peacock, past all doubt, 

Prove that if Britain yield the Trident's sway, 

'Twon't be to France, but to America ! 

Now she the diff'rence feels 'twixt bond and free, 

Who fights for tyrants or for Liberty ! 

Confess, old Erie, how Columbia's sons, 

On thy broad bosom hush'd proud Britain's guns ; 

Tell how, if aught thou dost delight in jokes, 

With their long Toms they bored the Royal Oaks *. 

Till fainting Britons, spite of native pride. 

Struck to brave Perry and for quarter cried. 

And thou, Ontario, like thy sister Lake, 

With British thunder hast been made to quake ; 

But though they labor'd with their utmost skill, 

They could not compass all thy fish to kill ; 

A strong ribb'd Pike, with Chauncey on his back 



NAVAL VICTORIES. 7G 

Where'er he pleases holds his fearless track, 

And not a Wolf, nor yet a Royal George, 

Has strength or courage this same Pike to gorge. 

Chauncey, move on, don't give the contest o'er, 

Till Lake Ontario's ours on either shore. 

And may the prow^ling foe on the Champlain, 

To take thy fleet find all his efforts vain ; 

Be, it McDonnough, thine this Lake to guard, 

A grateful Nation shall thy toils reward. 

To you, bravo Sailors, now the Muse appeals. 

And asks each son of freedom if he feels 

Relentless hatred throbbing in his veins. 

Towards the poor foe o'er whom he conquest gains ? 

Ah no ! methinks a gallant tar replies, 

I am a man, no Demon in disguise ! 

'Tis not for thirst of blood thy sailor fights ; 

'Tis for his own, and for his Country's rights, 

Name you in all those fights you've sung just now,. 

One single act to brand with shame his brow. 

But if kind Heav'n design'd each Nation free, 

To pass and repass o'er the subject sea ; 

Shall impious Britain with strong hands arrest. 

And pluck from any this high Heaven's bequest ; 

And won't our high ton'd Independent Nation, 

Raise her bold crest against such usurpation ? 

Or shall the foe her free-born sons detain, 

To fight th' oppressor's battles on the main ; 

Abus'd, insulted in his floating graves, 

Like his own black, kidnapp'd, West Indian slaves ; 

Or forc'd by men fill'd with demoniac ire. 

On their own blood the murd'rous gun to fire. 

Who, says the Muse, such flagrant deeds approves ? 

For lo, with grief, her swelling bosom moves ; 

She mourns the lot of those she loves so dear, 

And o'er their fate she drops the sorrowing tear. 

But British hearts more oMurate than steel, 

By other weapons must be made to feel; 

For them, there's no such Logic in the world. 

As Yankee balls, from Yankee cannon hurl'd. 



68 STRIPED BUNTING. 

Then messmates come, with Heaven on om- side, 
We'll dash again Old England's " wooden pride ;" 
Unless her Hellborn practice she'll repress, 
And grant our Seamen that long sought redress ; 
Which now they claim, and must and will obtain^ 
Or sweep her boasted Navy from the main. 



A NATION S GROANS. 



Hear ye, hear all the world, old Albion's groans. 
How her lost Naval honors she bemoans ; 
And loud proclaims, spite of her Lion heart, 
Columbia's touch'd her in her " vital part " 



DISTICH FOR ONE OF THE COFFINS OR BOXES AT THE 

BURIAL OF THE REVOLUTIONARY BONES ON LONG 
ISLAND, A. D., 1808. 

Tremble — ye Tyrants, dread the gath'ring storm. 
While freemen, freemen's obsequies perform ! 



America's few yards of striped bunting. 

How insulting, how affronting, 
See with stars the striped bunting, 
How gallantly aloft it floats 
From the tall masts of Yankee boats, 
And darts defiance and disdain. 
At the proud mistress of the main. 

Yankee sailors, ye have senses. 

Courtesies are not offences, 

Have the button nation shown them ? 



Disappointment. 69 

Yes, but they're asham'd to own them I 
Yet you still may hear them grunting, 
At the stars and striped bunting. 



Yankee sailors, ye have brothers, 
They have fathers, wives, and mothers ! 
How d'ye think tliey now are faring, 
See, the lash their back is tearing, 
Would that they the seas were hunting, 
'Neath the stars and striped bunting ! 

Tars, ahead, the time is nearing, 
Into strength our Country's steering, 
Her battle ships each state shall bring ; 
And make the seas with thunder ring, 
Britain, look out for Yankee tars, 
Under their buntino; and their stars ! 



THE DISAPPOINTMENT, OR PROTEGE VS. PATRON. 

There lived a Clerk in Albany, 

His name w^as Kelmonezer, 
He wrote for Gubernator there, 

A man of high degree, sir. 

In his employ, full twenty months, 
Did this same Clerk remain; 

And toil'd in doors, or trudg'd about, 
Through snow, and hail, and rain. 

'Twas at the time when British fleets 
Were hanging on our coast ; 

And British armies on our lines, 
A most terrific host ! 

But soon a ship from Europe comes, 
And quick is brought on shore 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

The news, that England now, and we, 
Are enemies no more. 

Post haste away to Washington, 

Despatches nimbly went ; 
The President the treaty sign'd, 

The Senate gave consent. 

What balefial star did then arise, 

Just at that joyous hour; 
On Kelmonezer's prospects fair, 

With sick'ning gloom to lower. 

For Gubernator from that time, 
Appear'd in mind quite chang'd ; 

As though the peace with mischief fraught, 
Had all his plans derang'd. 

Now Kelmonezer saw with grief, 

His Patron's alter'd mind ; 
But dream'd not to his Protege 

It boded aught unkind. 

For when upon a certain night. 

He was in pleasant mood ; 
And Kelmonezer, with the mail 

Before his presence stood. 

Said he, " unto your letter, I 

To-morrow will attend ;" 
And Kelmonezer thought he could. 

Upon his word depend. 

And of a certain man* he spoke, 
Who New-York's Council guides ; 

And o'er her as Chief Magistrate, 
Reluctantly presides. 

* John Ferguson, Esqr, 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

" Say, can't this man procure a place 
For an old College friend;" 

" Oh yes," says Kelmonezer, " if 
By me a line you'll send." 

" Not so," said Gubernator, " no, 
To him, myself I'll speak ; 

" I won't desert you, do not fear, 
I'll be in York next week." 

He came to Town, 'tis very true, 

And he return'd again ; 
Poor Kelmonezer for a place 

Has look'd, but look'd in vain. 

Yet still one thing is passing strange 

In Kelmonezer's eye ; 
That Gubernator seems of late 

Of him so wond'rous shy ! 

What has he done, or left undone, 
To be pass'd by so slightly. 

Is he in manners so uncouth. 
Or person so unsightly ? 

But something whispers softly, in 

His all attentive ear ; 
" Men often change, and seldom are 

What they would fain appear. 

" They often faint and step aside, 
And weary in well doing ; 

Did you ne'er see a man at night, 
A meteor pursuing ?" 

Then why should we indulge regrets 
For what we cannot mend ; 

Why chide ourselves if wilfully 
We have not wrong'd our friend ? 



n MAJOR GEN. PORTER. 

Perhaps some future event may 
His sympathies revive ; 

When he unto your interests shall, 
Be perfectly alive ! 

j^nd so it chanc'd, it was not long, 
'Twas Gubernator's work ; 

A school-mate Kelmonezer chose, 
For both their sakes, his Clerk. 

Nor did his friendship end in this, 

But all his after days 
He Kelmonezer did befriend, 

Who writes this to his praise. 



TO MAJOR GENERAL PETER B. PORTER. 

Porter, attend, with thine ambiguous name, 

The Muse now greets the val'rous son of fame ; 

Nor fear she will, and style herself thy friend, 

With fulsome flattery thy chaste ear oifend. 

No — let our Senates while thine acts they read, 

Of praise on thee bestow a copious meed. 

Or add, to give it more substantial weight, 

A sword, or service all of massy plate; 

Or else to make thee of still greater note. 

Let a brevet to higher rank promote. 

Thou didst deserve one well, and I was glad, 

When on that day in winter vestments clad 

I from Excelsior bore you from his hand. 

And put in yours, what like a magic wand 

Rais'd you in rank, and placed you one step higher, 

And gave you all you justly could desire. 

Skinner's could tell had it a tongue to speak, 

Oh yes, that day stood first of all the week. 

I too, by proxy, first or after soon 

A Major dubb'd the gallant Darby Noon ; 



RARITAN LANDING. 73 

Bat lie has gone and left us here behind, 

To brave the billows of a world unkind ; 

Excelsior, too, has bid us all — " good by," 

And shortly we and all of us must die ! 

Yes, we with them must shoot the gulf of time, 

And pass to meet them in another clime. 

But are we solac'd by this cheering thought, 

We have not lived, nor will we die for naught? 

The place where last I saw thee I could name, 

In visage alter'd, but of heart the same ; 

There thou didst soothe with accents bland and kind, 

The throbbing tumult of my burden'd mind. 

Porter, I thank thee, thou wast truly good, 

When of thy friendship most in need I stood 

Thou didst release my truant, headstrong son, 

To use his trade, and to resign his gun. 

And when his Colonel for his friend he knew, 

'Twas I, his father, told him it was you. 

Porter, whate'er thine enemies may say, 

I say, I can't, but yet, my friend, I pray, 

^' May Heav'n reward thee in the coming day !" 



RARITAN LANDING. A POEM. 

Or reminiscences, on a late visit to my native Village in New Jersey. 

Oft have I strove in true poetic strain, 

To treat of rural things, but all in vain ; 

Rear'd in a city there condemn'd to toil, 

Far from the beauties of my native soil, 

My thoughts to bus'ness, calculation turn'd, 

My daily bread by labor to be earn'd, 

While cares domestic occupied my time, 

And left but little, when at home for rhyme. 

Yet oft to thee has fond remembrance ran, 

My own, my long forsaken Raritan. 

Climb'd up thy hills, or o'er thy meadows stray'd 



74 RARITAN LANDING. 

And view'd thy river through a neighb'ring glade. 
O'er all thy soil, or cloth'd in green or white, 
I've rang'd again with pleasure and delight. 
Since then full half a century has fled, 
Lo, all my kindred number'd with the dead ! 
Or some have quit thee for another State — 
And then the change in ancient friends how great '- 
I'll see no more each weli-remember'd face, 
They're gone, succeeded by another race. 
Who, on my visit view'd me with surprise, 
As one just newly fallen from the skies — 
Ah, little thought those wond'ring youngsters then, 
I trod that ground before their sires were men ! 
Who oft with me, with line and pole in hand 
Drew silv'ry fishes from thy stream to land — 
Just there their sons I saw — thy bridge cross'd o'er 
All silent angling on thy sandy shore. 
Now for some converse with the boys methought — 
"What sport my lads, how many have you caught ?" 
Quick was the answer from each little he — 
All rais'd their strings and cried, "see, Uncle, see !" 
Uncle ! how grateful on my ear it fell 
Some may conceive, for me, I cannot tell. 
Sympathy call it, or what you like best, 
A social feeling planted in the breast. 
Let kindness but the pleasing touch impart. 
How sweet it vibrates on the human heart. 
Thus moralizing with myself I talk'd, 
, While up the road full leisurely I walk'd. 
And sought those houses once again to view. 
Which now are gone, nor yet replaced by new ; 
Naked I saw thy road on either side. 
As newly swept by Spring's destructive tide — 
Blair, Kip, and Auten, Brimer, Bowers, none — 
And are none left ? no not one mother's son ! 
Next Dixon's, then the house of brick and wood 
Left naught to show where either once had stood — 
My grandsire's then, where strangers now reside, 
There, Connet's house was on the other side — 



RARITAN LANDING. 75 

There Bray's and Field's, and round the corner Flal'5;. 

He who supphed the villagers with hats. 

Now on the hill there stands the house in view, 

The house in which my earliest breath I drew — 

The way up easy, I the hill ascend, 

And there receive the greetings of a friend — 

Roughead the sailor, now with years grown gray. 

Ah Bill ! full many a year has roll'd away, 

Since first you sail'd with Chivers o'er the main, 

From Dublin's City to New York again. 

Greetings exchanged, I left old Bill's abode, 

And steer'd my course for Let son's up the road. 

Th' old fashion'd house I saw ahead quite plain 

Where dwelt my sister Phebc's daughter Jane. 

Welcom'd by Letson, in his friendly way, 

And press'd with him the coming night to stay, 

I might have stay'd, my time — " excuse me — no, 

Good by good folks" — so down the road I go. 

Pass Poole's two houses, then within the nook, 

The elder Letson's near the willow brook — 

Churchward was gone — then French's on the left, 

Long since hy death of its first head bereft — 

A stranger-farmer occupies his fields. 

His Farm now wheat instead of rye grain yields — 

There he was mowing just abreast the fence ; — 

I stopp'd, and used fatigue for a pretence 

To hold some cjnverse — leaning on my cane, 

Of him I ask'd what had become of Lane ? 

And truly, I without pretence might say, 

I felt at length the tedium of the day. 

Early that morn in Brooklyn I arose. 

Now forty miles Fd travell'd near day's close — 

Whistled to Brunswick in a rail-road car — 

A two miles' walk, besure not very far — 

Yet did I not, nor have I since begrudg'd 

That on the tow-path I those two miles trudg'd — 

Ne'er in and up thy stream walk'd I before, 

O Raritan ! and thus may walk no more. 

Oh, it was pleasant thus to walk or stand, 



76 RARITAN LANDING. 

So near thy midst with water on each hand — 
But Lane — aye Lane — the farmer quick rephed — 
Why — Lane is gone — hke many more has died. 
This farm — 'twas French's once — pray is it thine ? 
I've bought it, sir, and now this farm is mine. 
And then that one, from there, until its end? 
That too I've bought — that too is mine, my friend. 
That farm was once my father's — and I there 
Spent happy days devoid of toil and care. 
When up the road, near to the store of Poole, 
I went to learn my lesson at the school ; 
That must have been before this world I saw 
If from your face true inference I draw — 
Yes — more than half a century's pass'd o'er, 
And now my years amount to near three score » 
I left the man to mow his lield of grain — 
And soon the path, and then the road regain. 
Forward I look, but yet no house I see — 
Nor barn, nor choke-pear, nor a locust tree — 
No barn, no house, placed in the hill full low — 
The trees had fallen by the woodman's blow — 
But on the hill we claim'd one little space — 
Ail unenclos'd — it was our burial place — 
No tomb-stones there the passing stranger show 
The names of those whose bodies sleep below — 
Yet there is One above who knows full well 
The place where their immortal spirits dwell — 
And may it be, when I am call'd to die. 
My body here in this lone spot shall lie ? 
Or placed near strangers far from hence repose ? 
'Tis hid from me, my Maker only knows — 
Yet why should this cause me one anxious sigh^ 
Or when, or how, or in what place I die ? 
My Maker's '■'■ faithful ^ and my slumb'ring clay 
Shall join my soul to meet the Judgment day." 
Then be it my great bus'ness while I live,, 
My heart to him without reserve to give — 
With fears foreboding I shall not be press'd — 
He having that will care for all the rest. 



RARITAN LANDING. 77 

Tins lonely spot adjoin'd a rugged hill, 
Along whose bsse there ran a purling rill ; 
It claim'd a spring unfailing for its source, 
And to the river urg'd its tortuous course, 
On its small meadow rear'd its lofty head. 
One spreading tree with apples white and red — 
And oft those apples, wand'ring there alone — 
I've caused to drop with either stick or stone — 
And on that meadow, spread o'er all the ground, 
There mentha rose, 'twas in abundance found, 
All verdant, fragrant with its native oil — 
Luxuriant shooting from the humid soil — 
Nepeta, too, methinks with silv'ry grace 
Spread her ribb'd foliage o'er thy smiling face. 
And on the hill the pudding grass display'd 
Its gracile stalk whence sprang its little blade. 
What though no beauteous flower thy space array'd, 
These less for beauty than for use were made. 
Beyond the rill there num'rous fruit trees stood 
Once own'd and planted by old Doctor Hood — 
He's gone, and his successor too — what sith, 
He there resided, known as English-Smith. 
And in that place I did delight — yea love — 
To chase from tree to tree the turtle-dove. 
No more I'd chase her at this time remote, 
But list'ning sit and hear her plaintive note. 
Yet other music courts my list'ning ear, 
I must be gone, no longer linger here. 
The sun declining, seeks his watery bed ; 
And shows how time on rapid wings has fled. 
Admonish'd thus my steps I now retrace. 
And on the way to Brunswick turn my face. 
Still sparser now the population grew — 
And to the bridge the houses were but few — ' 

Their ancient tenants, lived they there or not, 
I could not tell — or dead and long forgot — 
This road to walk was never my delight, 
Lonesome by day and dreary in the night ; 
But I, as I had nothing here to dread, 
c* 



78 RARITAN LANDING. 

Dismiss'd my thoughts and sent them on ahead — 
And journeying on, Probasco's brook I near'd, 
(And on the hill the Miller's house appear'd) — 
This pass'd, I gain with hasty steps once more 
The bridge, which I had cross'd so oft before — 
No more the freshet moves it from its place, 
Russell has fix'd it on too firm a base. 
Cross'd o'er, I come with a keen appetite 
To where I mean to sup and spend the night. 
The morning dawns, I rise refresh'd by sleep. 
And now prepare the Sabbath day to keep ; 
And thrice that day I to the church repair — 
I love to visit at the house of pray'r. 
My bus'ness done, next day I take my leave 
And Raritan in the Napoleon cleave. 
Farewell my Raritan — Brunswick adieu, 
No more, perhaps, thy streets I'll travel through — 
Yet, when I've safely cross'd the watery deep, 
I both of you will in remembrance keep. 
Onward we move, while all delighted seem 
To glide so swiftly o'er the crooked stream. 
While on the right, hills their attraction lend. 
There on the left, salt meadows far extend, 
Fill'd with m.osquitoes and their nightly din. 
Their stings so pois'ness to the human skin. 
Implanted poles now show their beacon heads 
To warn the boatmen of the oyster beds. 
Which there submers'd, if not avoided, might 
Detain by day, or injure in the night, 
Once with my father and his friends, my lot 
It was, one fall to visit this same spot. 
Our skiffs were anchor'd, here we rested all, 
And patient waited till the tide should fall. 
Which falling leaves them bare, and us the pow'r 
To pick the oysters for about one hour. — 
For at that season blows a strong north wind — ■ 
By which the tide to Prince's Bay's confin'd 
And now begins a most industrious strife, 
And all are picking as it were for life-~ 



THE STANDING COLOR. 79 

Soon would iho tide its wonted strength regain, 

And rushing upward cover all the plain. 

This well we knew, and strove to load each boat ; 

The tide comes in, and we begin to float. 

'Tis time to quit, nor longer here abide — 

Homeward we move assisted by the tide. 

The boys pull on Avith strong and steady strokes, 

The men amuse them with their laugh and jokes — 

Arriv'd, the wind may blow from north or east. 

We care not, we're provided with a feast. 

But now we stop, arriv'd at Amboy's dock, 

And in and out the passengers soon flock. 

Then move the wheels, and wc pass mile by mile 

Along the pleasant shores of Staten's Isle. 

Now leave the Kills, and cross the New York bay 

And safe arriv'd near Castle Garden lay — 

Then spring ashore and through tlie streets we roam. 

For each is anxious to be found at home. 



THE STANDING COLOR OF THE DAY. 

Friend, if thou canst, for once, I prithee say. 
What is the standing color of the day ? 
Oh, sir, 'tis obvious to the merest clown, 
It is not red ; nay, truly, it is " Brown /" 



WE ARE NOT REPROBATED WHILE THE HOLY SPIRIT 
STRIVES WITH US. 

Why dost thou mourn departed time ? 
The old man sigh'd, " I've pass'd my prime," 
And see life's winter deeply now, 
Imprinted on my wrinkled brow ; 
In characters that all may spell, 
Deep struck, my son, indelible. 



80 THE ORPHAN'S ADDRESS. 

Nay, sigh not thus, to pass thy prime 
Is but thy lot, and not thy crime ; 
Short is the space allow'd to man 
To roam o'er earth — 'tis but a span. 
But how hast thou thy time improv'd 
Nearer is Heav'n or more remov'd? 
Ah that reflection pains my heart, 
I from the grave with horror start ; 
When I look back then flow my tears, 
To think of sins of former years. 
Courage, old man, thou hast the sign, 
The Lord still loves that soul of thine. 
He hath not sworn with uprais'd hand, 
To thrust thee from the promis'd land ; 
His Spirit strives and points the way, 
To lead thee to eternal day- 



THE ORPHAN S ADDRESS TO THE PATRONS AND TRUSTEES 
OF A CERTAIN RELIGIOUS INSTITUTION FOR THE EDU- 
CATION OF POOR CHILDREN, IN THE CITV OF NEW 
YORK. 

The radiant Sun with golden beams, 

Illum'd my natal morn; 
"When my glad father heard it said, 

To him a son was born. 

What pleasing thoughts roll'd through his breast, 

When first he saw my face ; 
And with what rapt'rous joy he held 

Me in his fond embrace ? 

Uprais'd to Heav'n his streaming eyes. 

He plied Jehovah's throne ; 
Prais'd his Omniscience first, — O God ! 

To thee all things are known. 



THE ORPHAN'S ADDRESS. 81 

This thine own gift to me a worm, 

I thankfully accept ; 
Now grant that he from Sin's fell power, 

May by thy power be kept. 

Oh let thy grace, through thine own Son, 

Into his heart dislil ; 
And to thyself subdue, in youth, 

His native stubborn will. 

And if to him, in wisdom, thou 

Decree'st a length of days ; 
Oh let thy goodness always keep 

His feet in " Wisdom's ways." 

Then whatsoe'er may him betide 

In this dark vale of tears ; 
Thy promise to the righteous seed 

Shall quiet all my fears. 

Thus he — and to my mother's arms 

Restored her future care ; 
And did, with grateful heart, unto 

His daily toil repair. 

Under his kind paternal roof 

I lived from year to year ; 
And in this place the gospel heard, 

With you my patrons dear. 

But greedy Death, who all our race 

Counts as his lawful prey ; 
With summons short to his pale realms, 

My father call'd awa3^ 

How could my widow'd mother tlien 

Her heavy charge maintain ? 
For this she strove, yet, oh alas ! 

Her striving found in vain. 



82 THE ORPHAN'S ADDRESS. 

And must, she cried, this son of mine, 
Who erst such promise gave, 

For want of learning be brouglit up, 
Of ignorance the slave ? 

What a sad present shall I make. 

My country and my God ! 
A wretch whom justice soon may crush, 

'Neath its avenging rod! 

So griev'd she o'er her orphan boy. 
While tears suffus'd each eye ; 

And pray'd some helper might be rais'd, 
Or Heav'n would let him die. 

Her prayer of faith was quickly heard, — 

You took her Orphan bo)?- ; 
Dispeled her grief, dried up her tears. 

And fill'd her heart with joy. 

Ah what returns shall I e'er make, 
For so much kindness shown? 

Shall I forget it, say, shall I, 
When up to man Fve grown ? 

My mind to study Fll apply, 

With unremitting zeal ; 
Till it becomes more sweet to mc, . 

Than is my daily meal. 

And when I enter on the world, 
Should Heaven my efforts crown, 

I'll lib'ral be, nor will with scorn 
Upon the poor look down. 

And now my friends and patrons dear, 
Heaven bless your pious care, 

And save you now and evermore, 
In answer to my prayer. 



SCHOOL ADDRESS. 83 



Still, still extend your chanties, 
And may you while you live, 

Feel, always feel, "more blessed 'tis 
To give, than to receive." 



APOTHEGMS. 



Would you life's tedious, tasteless hours beguile ? 
Write Apothegms in apostolic style ! 



PIETY IN APPEARANCE ONLY. 

Distrust, 'tis not ingenuous, that piety 
Which does not make us useful to society. 



ADDRESS TO THE SCHOLARS OF A CERTAIN SCHOOL ON 
THE DEATH OP ONE OF THEIR COMPANIONS. 

Yc list'ning youths, your parent's hope and joy, 

Let themes like this 5rour infant minds employ ; 

See how stern Death, with mortals still at strife, 

Has snatched young Abram in the bloom of life. 

So falls the lily with its beauteous head. 

Struck by the scythe it withers and lies dead. 

Such was the fiat of Almighty grace, 

His soul to trcmslsite to a belter place. 

Fond youths attend, nor let unheeded pass, 

This solemn Bible truth " all flesh is grass." 

There's naught can shield you from Death's fatal blew, 

Spares he the young, or middle-aged, ah no ! 

Go to the church-yard, on the tomb-stones read, 

How the young dead by far the old exceed ; 

From Death^s fell grasp, ye youths, there no reprieve, 



84 RE-UNION OF SOUL AND BODY. 

And each in turn this transient state must leave. 
But though his powYs so fatal to our race, 
Still there's a remedy prescrib'd by grace ; 
Then " mark and learn and inwardly digest," 
Nor spurn indignant at high Heaven's request . 
"My sons be w^ise, and do yourselves no harm !" 
Death of his sting fair Virtue can disarm. 
Then in the morning of your youth begin, 
To practise virtue and to hate all sin ; 
So shall that (iod who form'd you by his power. 
Protect and bless you ev'ry passing hour, 
Save you from hell, and when he bids you die, 
Receive your souls to dwell with him on high. 



RE-UNION OF SOUL AND BODY IN A FUTURE STATE. 

Body and soul, like man and wife 

You've journey 'd through this tiresome life, 

To the appointed lonely goal ; 
Now body, death with his fell blow. 
Has lain thee in the dust full low, 

Till Heav'n rejoin thee to thy soul. 

And is there hope beyond the grave ? 
Yes, he who came mankind to save. 

Hath burst death's gloomy prison door ; 
And when thou hear'st Christ's trumpet sound, 
Swift from thy prison shalt thou bound 

And meet thy soul to part no more. 

In thy proportions form'd divine. 
In lustre thou shalt far outshine. 

Or sun or moon or morning star ; 
Then to thy soul in glory join'd. 
Naught shall ye through the ages find, 

Your endless peace and joy to mar. 



IINAL IMPENITENCE. €5 

FAITH. 



Say that it is, when you of Faith would treat, 

•^ The point where assent, and where consent meet." 



FINAL IMPENITENCE, AND THE CALL TO DRINK THE WA- 
TERS OF LIFE. 

If in this hfe we will not mend, 
But onward to destruction tend ; 
Then shall our souls in yonder world, 
Down to that Pit of wo be hurl'd, 
In which Jehovah's dreadful ire, 
Blows up the flames of endless fire. 
Then while the call to all is — " come" — 
(Though Satan says 'tis but to some. 
Believe him not, he fell from grace, 
And still he hates and tempts our race ;) 
Unto your Saviour's words give ear. 
Come all and drink life's water clear, 
That has it source in Heaven above, 
A fountain of redeeming love. 
You cannot drink this fountain dry, 
Then drink ye all, and never die. 
Will you, O Man, refuse to come ? 
Awake, ye dead, ye deaf, ye dumb ! 
Awake, before the monster Death 
Bids you resign your mortal breath. 
Go kiss the Son, before his wrath 
Like lightning flash across thy path. 
Should you refuse, his anger may 
Consume ye sinners " on the way." 
Then to his grace obedient yield, 
He'll be to you a sun, a shield. 
You need not dread the monster's frown, 
You'll wear in Heaven a glorious crown. 

H 



B6 THE MARTYR'S CROWN. 

WORSHIPPERS WORSHIPPING ON THEIR KNEES ON TKB 
STEPS OF THE "CATHEDRAL." 

See where the houseless suppHants wait, 

On bended knees at mercy's gate ! 

Would their rich men but grant them pews, 

To shield them from the cold and dews, 

They'd tell the Parson's needy fold, 

" We love your souls more than our gold !" 



NO SALVATION WITHOUT REPENTANCE. 

Tliis sentence let each in his memory cherish, 
"Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish,"' 

Luke, xiii, 5. 



THE BLACK MAN S EPITAPH. 

Though sprung from Afric's sable race, 
Yet I obtain'd God's pard'ning grace ; 
On white man's land I learn'd to prize, 
What made one good and truly wise. 
So freed by Death from Sin's control, 
Earth takes my body, God my soul. 



THE MARTYR S CROWN. 
CHORUS. 

Patient Saint, do not faint, 
Cry for grace, run the race ; 
Fired with love, look above, 
Die and rise, seize the prize. 



THE MARTYR'S CROWN. 87 

Never heed the worldUng's scoff, 
Soon you'll put your armour off ; 
Nobly you've his cause defended, 
Christ shall say " your warfare's ended." 
Patient, &c. 

Then you'll see with rapt'rous wonder, 
Jesus in the Heavens yonder : 
There he stands with open hands, 
Circled by celestial bands. 

See the spirits of the just. 

Who in him have put their trust ; 

Dazzling like celestial fires. 

Hark ! they tune their golden lyres. 

Oh, how Heaven's arches ring, 
While redeeming love they sing ; 
Glory to th' Eternal One, 
Heavenly Father, only Son. 

" We]on earth were wont to roam, 
Distant from our Father's home ; 
Yet his love has brought us nigh, 
Now we see him eye to eye. 

Freed from sin and Satan's chain, 
Wash'd our souls from ev'ry stain, 
Jesus, we'll with hearts elate 
Bear eternal glory's weight." 

Now the Saviour waves his hand. 
Quick as thought a shining band. 
Straight descend to this terrene. 
View the Christain's dying scene. 

See him lift his hand on high, 
" Happy ! happy !" hear him cry ; 



88 PROPER USE OF LEARNING.- 

Tlien his ransom'd spirit flies 
Upward to its native skies. 

Shout,, ye saints, in rapt'rous strains, 
Jesus king of martyrs reigns ; 
A martyr's crown, resplendent, now 
Decks his own triumphant brow. 

" Come, )'^e sons, redeem'd by grace. 
Victors in the Heavenly race ; 
On my throne come sit ye down. 
Wear with me a martyr's crown, 

" Closely seat ye by my side. 
Oh, my own vmspotted bride ; 
Wear ye, by my Father bless'd, 
Martyrs' crowns in endless rest." 



VIDEO MELIORA PROBOQUE ; DETERIORA SEQUOR. 

I see the better, and approve them too, 
Yet, notwithstanding, I worse things pursue. 



OMNIS INDI.E OPES SUPERAT MENS CONSCIA RECTI. 

The mind with conscious rectitude if bless'd. 
Excels all India's riches when possess'd. 



THE PROPER USE OF LEARNING. 

And pray what is the use of a high learn'd man ? 
Why b);- teaching to do all the good that he can ! 



REPENT. 89 



And if to good teaching he add good example, 
Then wo be to those who on such teaching trantiple. 



THE OLD VETERAN. 

That he had been, he proved it by his scars, 
A vet'ran soldier in the field of Mars ; 
And did his country well his toils repays? 
Why ask thou me, 'tis for himself to say. 
Yet this he said, " where'er my lot is cast, 
I'll love my country while my life shall last." 



FUTURE PROSPECTS. 



Look you for life's suff'rings and toils a reward ? 
Don't seek it from men, let it come from the Lord. 



THE LAST SHADE. 



Our feeble frames are lifeless laid, 
By Death the last successive shade. 



REPENT. 



Sinners repent, your steps retrace, 
You're lost by sin, but saved by grace ! 



90 REPENTANCE, 

TEMPTATION. 

" The temptations of the Lord are trials of our Virtue." 
" The temptations of the Devil are solicitations to evil." 
He must, therefore, be resisted, that he may " flee from us. 

God tempts his saints in various ways, 

Their virtue 'tis to try ; 
And if they live unto his praise, 

He'll raise them up on high. 

Temptation is the Devil's fort, 
From whence he shoots his darts ; 

But Christians to Faith's shield resort. 
And so secure their hearts. 

The enemy beholds, enraged, 

His arrows blunted fall ; 
The saints feel warm to be engaged. 

And on their Master call. 

Then m his strengtli they onward go. 

He arms them for the fight ; 
Dauntless they rush upon the foe. 

And Satan's put to flight. 



REPENTANCE. 

When of his sins the man repents, 
The justice of our God relents ; 
And when through Jesus he believes. 
He pardon of his sins receives. 
The grace that owns him for a son. 
Is glory in his soul begun. 



THE GRAVE. 91 

THE HUMAN SOUL. 

Itself a Power, the human soul 
Cannot be kept m vile control, 

By things of time and sense ; 
On daring wings it soars on high, 
Far, far be3^ond the azure sky, 

Up to God's residence ! 



MAN, A THINKING BEING. 

Man, sure, a thinking being is, 
And just as well he knows it, 
Not to himself this precious gift, 
But to Heaven's love he owes it. 



THE POWER OF JEHOVAH. 

How vast his power, there's none can tell, 
'Tis seen in Heaven, 'tis felt in Hell. 
Here saints exult in rapt'rous strains. 
There groan the damn'd in endless pains ! 

Would'st thou escape God's wrath in Hell ? 
Thy weapons ground, no more rebel ; 
Repent, believe, obey — forgiven. 
Go wear a starry crown in Heaven. 



THE GRAVE, HEAVEN AND HELL. 

The grave's a place in which we'll lie full low, 
A place to which we all of us must go ; 
Heaven is a truly glorious place on high, 



Oii DIVINE WRATH. 

Which none of us can enter till we die. 

There is a place of wo unspeakable ! 

It is not Heaven, nay truly, it is Hell ! 

Then where's the man who boasts of reas'ning powers, 

Will unimprov'd let slip life's golden hours ? 

Nay, in a moment on Death's fearful brink, 

To Heaven we rise, or else to Hell we sink! 



DIVINE WRATH. 



Would you escape impending wrath, 

Walk always in religion's path ; 

Regard not what the wicked say. 

There are no lions in this way. 

Then while 'tis call'd " to-day" be wise, 

Secure a mansion in the skies ; 

You'll not regret the toil and pain. 

You here endured that house to gain. 

Fullness of joy is there in store. 

And there are pleasures evermore. 

In God's own book these truths are found, 

There precious promises abound. 

In Christ the Lord, to all made sure, 

Who faithful to the end endure ; 

But sinners in their sins may look 

In vain for comfort in that book. 

For while they look they'll surely find, 

Unyielding sinners are consign'd 

To blackness, darkness, fire and pain, 

While God himself shall live and reign. 



TEMPERANCE. 93 

MAMMON PROFITABLY DISPOSED OF. 

"He sent his charities before him to Heaven." — Saurin. 

He, by his charities, to Heaven sent 
His fortune first, which to the Lord he lent; 
Summon'd from hence by mandate of God's love. 
He's gone to enjoy those charities above. 



TEMPERANCE. 
Gall. 5th Chap. 25th Verse. 

Self-government we Temperance define, 

A gen'ral law, of origin divine ; 

Including both, if mortals right can scan, 

Alike the inner as the outer man. 

'Tis moderation, as St. Paul has shown, 

" To all men be your moderation known." 

Religion 'lis, however strange it seem. 

The mean, the safest between each extreme. 

It order is, God's choicest dearest law, 

The light in which he all creation saw ; 

When first he bade it into being rise. 

Angels and men, and earth, and seas and skies. 

The i-dea which he loves and follows still, 

All he requires of man or ever will. 

Order for which he once the Heavens did shake. 

And will earth next, and Heaven, for order's sake. 

Then shall this law infracted be restored. 

And every nation own its common Lord ! 



91 DEATH WILL NOT WAIT. 

THE DOCTRINES AND PRECEPTS OF TilE GOSPEL. 

T. DxDlght. 

We in the doctrines of the gospel scan, 
All moral truth that now is known by man ; 
Without extend its precepts, and within, 
Require each virtue and forbid each sin. 



THE SAVIOUR AND HIS BRIDE, THE CHURCH. 

See the bless'd Saviour with the Church his bride. 
"There Virtue walks with glory by her side." 



DYING IN SIN. T. Dwight. 

Hurried, surprised, and with distress replete, 
Sinners in terror from this world retreat ; 
Wake in the next, and at the Judge's seat, 
All unprepared his angry frown they meet. 



DEATH WILL NOT WAIT OUR WISHES. — Ffom the Same. 
" Death, 'tis a melancholy day, to those wlio have no God." 

Remember this, all of us ought, 
Death will not for our Avishes wait ; 

The Judgment hastens, solemn thought ! 
Eternity knocks at the gate. 



COLUMBIA COLLEGE. m 

LIGHT AND DARKNESS. 



'Twas said that light into the darkness shone, 
But it the darkness comprehended not ; 

?in soil'd our human nature, One alone 

Can cleanse and wash out ev'ry stain and blot. 



EPITAPH. 

Did worth departed moulder in the dust, 
What hope, we'd ask, remaineth for the just ? 
But if like incense it ascends above. 
And meets its Father and its God in love. 
Then all your sorrowing for his loss dismiss, 
He dwells immortal in the realms of bliss. 



COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 
"Anliquam Exquirite Matrem." 

Columbia College ! Alma Mater! well 

Do I remember, and the time could tell, 

When first escaped from pedagogic rule. 

To thee I came fresh from a grammar school. 

From five long years well stored, at all events. 

With English, Greek, and Latin rudiments. 

Stern was our Teacher, rigid and severe. 

Nor ruled by love his pupils, but by fear ; 

From Scotia's bleak and snowy hills he came, 

Too rough for smooth and polish'd rhyme his name, 

A learned man, versed in scholastic trade. 

He strict attention to his scholors paid. 

Nor for the number that he sent thee cared. 

His object was to send them well prepared ; 

And how I profited thy books can show, 



96 COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 

Placed number four with twenty-eight below. 
What change ! to freedom from tyrannic sway ! 
No lime can chase the pleasing thought away. 
No more our minds with six tail'd-slrap appall'd, 
Blockheads no more, hwx generosi call'd. 
And then, at home, our studies to pursue, 
'Twas charming sure, for it was something new ! 
And now thou view'st us scatter'd o'er thy green ; 
Here are the gay, and there the thoughtful seen. 
'Neath spreading trees we either stand or sit. 
And on each other exercise our wit ; 
Or some are conning o'er the task assign'd, 
To keep it fresh, when call'd for in their mind. 
While some their fellows on swift foot pursue, 
With noise and shouting make a vast ado. 
But hark ! the lecture bell ! when all at once 
Rush up the stoop, the scholar and the dunce. 
Enter the room, in silence take our seats. 
Then each vicifsim* the word ^^ Here " repeats ; 
The roll is call'd, the absentees are fined, 
Lecture commences, all composed each mind ; 
Our every eye on the professor darts. 
Each ear drinks in the learning he imparts. 
But some distrustful of their mem'ry's power. 
On paper pen the teaching of the hour. 
The lecture ended, all rush down the stairs, 
And each to his own dwelling place repairs. 
Morning and evening found the students all, 
For prayers assembled, in the common hall. 
Our good old Pres. in pulpit mounted high. 
With specks on nose, and on his book each eye ; 
He reads, while he a cheerful aspect wears. 
In solemn tones Episcopalian pray'rs. 
On the concluding day of ev'ry week. 
Some compositions bring, some pieces speak. 
Our intermediate studies to repeat, 
To some, no doubt, would prove a grateful treat. 

* In his tarn. 



COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 97 

But to remind tliee of some things were vain, 

So oft transacted o'er and o'er again ; 

From time almost a century ago, 

Thou know'st them all, and part of them I know. 

Oh happy College hours ! though now ye seem 

As but the remnant of a fev'rish dream ; 

So many sorrows, joys, and griefs, and fears. 

Have fill'd the lapse of nearly fifty years ; 

Ye then a student young and lively saw, 

Now near my grand climacteric I draw ! 

What then ? like others I've enjoy'd my day. 

Nor grieve I now that thus it pass'd away. 

Not all my leaching did I leave behind, 

I bore off some, firm, fix'd within my mind. 

Some things remember'd from Philosophy, 

More from my fav'rite, dear Philology ! 

All kinds of genius are reduced to two, 

Classics or Mathematics they pursue. 

I for the former felt an ardent flame, 

There lay my forte, thence my chief pleasure came. 

Ah how unweeting of my future lot. 

Rather had I the first than last forgot. 

When my kind Uncle proffer'd me the choice 

Of the professions, I with steadfast voice. 

My wishes for the Counting House declared, 

'Gainst Physic, Law, Divinity, I dared 

Exceptions make, which when in years I grew, 

I found were wrong — believe me it is true ! 

For on the verge of each I've hover'd since. 

Enough, at least, my own mind to convince, 

(Though I the bus'ness by no means despise,) 

Of all I was least fit for merchandise. 

'Tis more like seas, methinks, than solid ground, 

Seas where rocks, shoals, and quicksands thick abound, 

Is it untrue ? my own case I narrate ; 

May each who tries it share a better fate ! 

And not be doom'd both day and night to work, 

A poor, a needy, a dependent Clerk ! 

What then — despair — and Providence distrust ? 



I COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 

'Twere impious this ! He is too good, too just, 

To pass unheeded any, who in prayer 

With heart sincere, trust in his guardian care. 

Then, poor, yet will I seek with Hope elate, 

Eternal good things in a better state ! 

Nor grieve, nor murmur, nor repine that I, 

Tread life's low walks by mandate from on high. 

Mother — no longer, thus, I'll thee detain. 

Lest thy digressing son should give thee pain. 

Or in those griefs thy sympathies engage, 

Which power superior can alone assuage. 

My number'd days will soon be o'er and past, 

And to that term I feel I'm hast'ning fast ! 

But let me mention first thy gala day. 

When all thy train came marching down Broadway, 

It was a show not framed for war and fight. 

It peaceful was, a real classic sight. 

Freshmen and Sophs, Juniors and Seniors abreast, 

Pres. and Professors, Janitor, full dress'd. 

In long and flowing gowns of sable hue. 

They look'd like Preachers to the admiring view ! 

Then there arrived, into St. Paul's they press'd, 

And I, thy joyous son among the rest ; 

Then up the aisles we pass'd with silent feet, 

And each located in his proper seat. 

Fill'd was the House of God, below, above, 

Music — and beauty, beaming looks of love. 

The music still'd, and now commence by sign, 

Those acts in which each speaker tries to shine ; 

Speeches in English, some in Latin too. 

Salute, farewell, sparkling with wit, span new. 

The speaking o'er, th' assembly wait to see, 

Each graduate take his separate degree ; 

Conferr'd by Pres. in Latin on the whole, 

A. B. or A. M. with a parchment roll. 

Pray'rs ended, now th' assembly all retire 

To censure some, while some applaud, admire. 

Among the A. B.'s ranks thy humble son: 

Mother, these acts in ninety-six were done ! 



PRESENTATION OF A SOUVENIR. 99 

Alma — thou art indeed an ancient Dame, 

And not thy first thou bear'st but second name ; 

Thou, fruitful mother, dost with best intent, 

A num'rous offspring to the world present. 

How many sons who thee their parent claim, 

Now live to add fresh lustre to thy name ! 

And numbers more whom time has swept away, 

Have shown illustrious in a previous day. 

Mater, farewell, I have detain'd thee long, 

To listen to my dreary plaintive song ; 

But why not I, for fear of censure, dare 

To tell thee all my secret bosom care ? 

Thou caredst for me, and all my faults pass'd o'er, 

Nor didst expel me from thy friendly door. 

When to salute thee next, I may beg leave, 

I hope 'twill be an A. M. to receive. 

Long may'st thou now, in answer to my prayer, 

Scores after scores of worthiest sons prepare ; 

Thy crown, thy glory in this world of care. 

Bright crowns themselves, in endless day to wear. 



GENERALS IN SERMONS. — SttUrin. 

On generals we like to dwell. 
Nor like our own true portrait well ; 
Make the resemblance too exact. 
It gives disgust, such is the fact. 



TO ACCOMPANY THE PRESENTATION OF A SOUVENIR SENT 
TO A YOUNG LADY AS A NEW YEAR's PRESENT. 

Let in my name and stead this Book appear, 
And with you Miss a new and happy year. 



100 A SCRIPTURAL ACROSTIC- 

EPITAPH FOR MR. STURGES. 



Mourn not, ye friends, all must this tribute pay, 
And all remingle with our parent clay ; 
What though grim death his object ne'er should miss^ 
He's the sole passport to the realms of bliss 1 



THE LORD S PRAYER VERSIFIED. 

Our Father, who dost in Heaven reside, 
Thy name, now and ever be sanctified ; 
Let thy kingdom come, and thy will be done, 
In earth and in Heaven, as though both were one. 
From day unto day still let us be fed, 
With earthly not only, but Heavenly bread ; 
And while here on earth we're permitted to live, 
Forgive us our sins, as we others forgive. 
In-Xo temptation, oh ! lead us not, Lord, 
But kindly protection from evil afford. 
The kingdom, the power, the glory to thee. 
Belongs and endures to E-ter-ni-ty. 

Amen. 



A SCRIPTURAL ACROSTIC. 

A-sk, and ye shall receive, 

S-eek, and ye shall find, 

K-nock, and it shall be opened unto you, 

Mattheio. 

Our blessed Saviour thus commands, 
Sure 'tis an easy task, 
Which all resolves itself in this, 
You've only but to A-S-K ! 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 101 

THE SUBSTITUTE, OR THE CORDWAINER CURED OF 
DRUNKENNESS. 

PART I. 

This world is like an ocean, truly, 
Disturb'd by winds and storms unruly ; 
By fully, pride, and foolish fashions. 
By what we moderns style the passions. 
They're w^orldly lusts, which war upraise 
Against the soul, St. Peter says. 
They are a most unruly set. 
And things unseemly, oft beget ; 
In spirit, as in speaking, thinking, 
In physics, as in eating, drinking, 
In each of which excesses may 
Proceed in many a fearful way ; 
If to restrain them you're too idle, 
Then hold them in as with a bridle. 
Or they like tyrants will command, 
And rule you with an iron hand. 
But if to order once brought under. 
Both you and all the world will wonder, 
When some bad practice is forsaken. 
Nor in the main be much mistaken. 
Our preface this, we haste to tell, 
What to a certain wight befell, 
Sam Slocombe, so the man was nam'd. 
For drinking round the country fam'd. 
And folks to say were not afraid, 
He lov'd it better than his trade, 
Which trade of Sam's was making shoes, 
And boots and slippers, if you choose ; 
But though this be a lawful call-ing, 
Not wrought by needle, but by awl-ing — 
Yet for old Flaccus cared not Sam, 
" iVe sutnr ultra crepidam.^^ 
Which means when into English cast, 
" Cobbler, I say, stick to your last." 
1* 



102 THE SUBSTITUTE. 

But though so oft he let rum rule. 

Yet Sam, when sober was no fool^ 

For he besides a pious breeding, 

Was very fond of Bible-reading, 

And he could argue, he could tell, 

Full many a truth of Heaven and HelL 

Now this I say, full well he knew, 

What others ouglit, or should not do. 

Thus far he judged his neighbour's standings 

Approving, or with censure branding, 

Yet while he thus employed his mind, 

He was not to his own sin blind. 

For still, with this outrageous sin, 

He felt a spark of grace within, 

And many good resolves he made,. 

Yet only call'd in reason's aid, 

Which if of grace it has no season! 

'Tis weak, alas, this human reason. 

From habit strength'ning as it grows,. 

A kind of second nature flows. 

If evil is the habit, sure, 

'Twill make its slave its ills endure — 

'Till broken off, it cannot fail. 

To stronger grow and to prevail. 

Now grace to slavery ne'er invites, 

But liberty and pure delights, 

And drinking rum's a habit evil, 

'Tis not of grace but of the devil \ 

Sam felt this kind of logic true — 

" I see at length, it will not do 

To lead this idle drinking life ; 

Myself, my children and my wife , 

'Twill beggar, and to ruin bring. 

Too long I've trifled with this thing ; 

My character, my credit lost : 

What, lose my pleasures ? — count the cost — 

With mind and body rack'd and pain'd, 

Much have I tost, and little gain'd — 

But I'm resolv'd — it shall be so ! 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 103 

To Doctor Tvvitchill straight I'll go." 

So off he hies with nimble feet, 

And meets the Doctor in the street. 

Sam " doff'd his hat and smooth'd his brow," 

And to the Doclor made his bow ; 

" I my complaint to you would tell, 

But Doctor it you know full well, 

Therefore in story I'll be brief. 

Doctor prescribe, I want relief." 

Now Sam of late had proved untrusty, 

Which made the Doctor somewhat crusty, 

Because he had his work neglected — 

So while an answer he expected, 

The Doctor with sardonic smile. 

Poor Sam address'd in angry style — 

" To me do you complaining come ? 

Sam Slocombe leave off drinking rum, 

And you shall, as occasion suits, 

Half sole my shoes, and mend my boots ; 

But if you still your whistle wet, 

From me no future jobs you'll get," — 

" Ah, Doctor, worse than rum, 'tis brandy." 

" You'd better live on sugar candy — 

Brandy bcsure won't smell the breath. 

But more than rum 'tis charg'd with death 

No matter who for brandy pleads. 

The grape in strength the cane exceeds ; 

'Twill make you with the horrors quiver, 

'Twill indurate your very liver, 

'Twill" — " Docior, hold your hand I pray ? 

Nor from your patients too long slay. 

My case I've thought on o'er and o'er, 

And I'm resolv'd to drink no more — 

I come not. Doctor, to dispute, 

But to request some substitute." 

" Why, Sam, your words my heart do cheer — 

I hope you're honestly sincere — 

Then I'll prescribe, though I'm set down 

To be another Doctor Brown — 



IM THE SUBSTITUTE. 

In hopes the things that caus'd your pain 

May you to health restore again ; 

But if my order you neglect, 

No benefit from it expect — 

You know my name?" "Yes, Doctor — Twitchell,' 

" Then do you, Sam, henceforth drink switchell, 

Now go" ; said he, in tone severe, 

" Another word I will not hear," 

PART II. 

And now behold him standing mute. 
And musing on his substitute ; 
Resolv'd to suffer self denial, 
And give the thing a decent trial. 
But here the quere might be made, 
Why Sam, distress'd and seeking aid, 
First craved it from a fellow being, 
And not at once from the All-seeing ? 
A spark of grace 'twas said he felt ; 
If on his knees he then had knelt. 
And begg'd of grace to be its debtor, 
Would he not then have fared much better ? 
'Tis granted — yet the Christian knows, 
What is in man that will oppose, 
(That which by nature all inherit,) 
The gracious strivings of the Spirit, 
The carnal mind in Scripture named, 
A principle ne'er to be tamed. 
Which rules with most despotic sway, 
The Avhich, unless the Lord shall slay, 
'Twill hold the man in durance fast. 
As long as life on earth shall last. 
Then why should we make the attempt, 
Sam more than man to represent ? 
The Christain knows how hard a thing 
It was at first his mind to bring 
From off its pinnacle of pride, 
And all at once to lay aside 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 105 

Those towering thoughts which self inflite, 
And bind men to their real state. 
All nat'ral men by sin are blinded, 
Which makes them heady and high minded ; 
They're strong in hope and confidence, 
And against Heaven they rear'd this fence ; 
Nor whips, nor rods, nor cross, nor halter, 
Have power, men's wicked hearts to alter ! 
The grace that's in the gospel found, 
Must bring their Babel -to the ground ! 
In nature's field, the Christian knows, 
No plant of lowliness e'er grows ; 
God plants it hi the heart renew'd, 
And there it thrives with grace endued. 
This then we think the reason why 
Sam did to man not Heav'n apply — 
/??to a store, hard by, he stepp'd, 
'Twas by a temp'rance grocer kept. 
Though he had always shunn'd his door, 

The grocer Sam had known before ; 

He knew his trade and how he acted, 

And many debts for rum contracted. 

But on what errand now he came, 

He could not guess, so could not name ; 

But let it be for good or evil. 

He thought he would entreat him civil. 

" Good morning, neighbor ; well, how goes, 

What kind of wind this morning blows ? 

My eyes, I hardly can believe. 

This honor why do I receive ?" 

Says Sam, " my friend, I pray you stop ! 

Do you sell treacle in your shop ?" 

" I have the article in plenty, 

I'll sell you hogsheads ten or twenty." 

" I only by my stopping meant, 

One gallon for experiment, 

From you to buy a jug also, 

Then take your pay, and 1 will go." 

The thing was quickly done, and Sain. 



lOS THE SUBSTITUTE. 

Fell keen to take his treacle dram ; 

But as he turn'd to bid good bye, 

He met the grocer's piercing eye 

Fix'd on his own with gaze intent, 

As though it said — " Experiment !" 

And what is it, I'd like to know ? 

At least, Sam understood it so — 

Now he behev'd, or else opin'd 

The grocer to some church was join'd. 

" Grocer ! the question's fairly meant," 

" What Christian church do you frequent ?" 

" I'll tell you, since to know you list, 

I am long since a Methodist." 

" I like you none the worse for that ; 

My question you have answer'd pat. 

And now I'll tell you as a friend, 

What by this treacle I intend. 

You've heard, no doubt, to drink I'm given. 

By which to ruin folks are driven ; 

Now I resolv'd, in time, to stop, 

And never drink another drop. 

But yet I thought it would not suit, 

Unless I had some substitute ; 

So off I went to Doctor Twitchell, 

And he approv'd, and order'd switchell ; 

So now I am with this content 

To make a fair experiment." 

" I pray it may sufficient prove 

Your thirst for drinking to remove ; 

Your substitute the Doctor knew, 

Of alchohol might stand in lieu, 

And strength and vigor to your heart. 

And all your outer man impart. 

But you must give it a fair trial. 

By practising much self denial. 

Or, after all you may endure. 

It may not work a thorough cure — 

Add one thing more and I'll maintain, 

You surely will your object gain." 



THE SUBSTITUTE. iC7 

''Pray name it, since success 'twill bring." 

" Religion, Sir, that is the thing. 

No doubt, 'tis good in its own place, 

'Tis excellent in ev'ry case — 

The best of any substitutes. 

And always proves so by its fruits. 

But you no longer I'll detain, 

You'll be this way, no doubt, again. 

Now only let, ' twixt you and me, 

Your motto Perserverance be." 

So here they parted for the present, 

Both parties in good humor, pleasant — 

Sam quickly to his home return'd. 

And in his mind vile brandy spurn'd ; 

His treacle drank, and in a jerk. 

Was snugly seated at his work. 

And thus he wrought day after day, 

Took home his work, receiv'd his pay ; 

The good effects were soon discern'd, 

Of what by industry he earn'd. 

No longer within tavern walls. 

His ears are deaf to toper's calls ; 

His customers the change perceived, 

" Twas strange," they said ; yet they believed 

Sam had reform'd, and chang'd his plan. 

And was no more a drinking man. 

And he, to his great joy soon found, 

His work flow in from all around. 

His family — how alter'd they, 

No more to grief and shame a prey ! 

Their faces show a mind serene. 

Their garments whole, and neat and clean. 

His children now at school delight. 

To learn to spell, to read and write. 

And all when Sunday bell they hear. 

In church before the Lord appear, 

Confess'd by all, here was a change. 

Not merely strange, but " passing strange" — 

And was it thorough ? nay, not quite, 



103 THE SUBSTITUTE. 

But yet, all things were working right ; 
For grace, with perseverance join'd. 
Strange inroads made into his mind ; 
Upon the little spark it blew, 
And soon into a flame it grew— 
Keenly he felt the glowing smart, 
While melting down his stony heart. 
Conviction came, its powerful sway 
Who can withstand ? behold him pray ! 
He just is made, finds peace beside. 
Through faith in the once Crucified. 
He doubted not, too plain his case — 
A real change had taken place ! 
Once he opposed God's righteous law — 
He then w^as " blind, but now he saw ;" 
Nor did he shout, as if in noise 
His soul had lost its equipoise ; 
Nor did his mortal body shake, 
As though torn up by an earthquake. 
It was the Spirit's gracious choice. 
To speak to him in " still, small voice," 
In accents gentle, bland and kind, 
Not furious like the whirling wind — 
" Thy God, thy sins, a frightful store, 
Against thy soul accounts no more." 
The Son had proved his friend in need, 
And made him free from sin indeed ; 
And now we say, with pious mind 
Himself unto the Church has join'd. 
To sin and pride and folly dead, 
United to his elect Head. 
Now all the wise and good rejoice, 
That Sam had made so wise a choice ; 
Thenceforth folks call'd him no more Sam, 
'Twas Mr. Slocombe — his wife, ma'am ! 
Full many a year is gone and pass'd, 
His confidence he still holds fast ; 
And there he stands a beacon still. 
Just like a " city on a hill !" 



LIFE IS UNCERTAIN. 109 

The tale is true and not fictitious, 
In serious told, not mood capricious ; 
And may he ne'er from grace backslide, 
But keep close to his Saviour's side, 
And faithful unto death still prove, 
And wear in Heaven a crown of love. 



GLORY. 



And what of Glory ? in eternal day, 

'Tis grace made perfect, absolute, Ave'll say. 



"we must not do evil that good may come 
therefrom." 

Oh! that remember, always, this we could, 
Not to do evil for the sake of good ! 



PRAYERS PREFERRED IN WRATH WILL NOT BE ANSWERED. 

Let prayers ascend in mercy's peaceful path, 
Heaven answers none that are put up in wrath; 
Then seek not thus thy fellow man to slay, 
Vengeance is mine, saith God, and I'll repay. 



LIFE IS UNCERTAIN. 



That we, need we each day and hour be told, 
Our lives by an "uncertain tenure" hold '! 

K 



110 THE END OF TIME. 

THE GOOD man's DEATH. 

Resign'd he goes to meet a bless'd reward, 
In Jesus sleeps, is ever with the Lord. 



THE END OF TIME, AND BEGINNING OF ETERNITY. 

A. D. One — eight— three — nine, is gone and past, 

We've toil*d and worried through that year at last. 

Through scenes as varied as our various states. 

All noted under their own proper dates ; 

Where time at large in his huge folio writes 

All our transactions both of days and nights, 

As through his course he flies on swiftest wing. 

Till Heaven that course unto an end shall bring. 

Then shall he sleep, embalm'd in heavenly bowers. 

While dire destruction wastes this world of ours. 

And this " vain wojld,^'' with all its "things" be burn'd, 

To one vast heap of desolation turn'd ! 

Yet how this period with precision find ? 

The question baffles every finite mind \ 

Yet days though many, it shall come, or few, 

As sure as He who spake the word is true. 

Search we the Scriptures both the old and new, 

There we will find, dX least, a general clue, 

Enough to teach us what we ne'er shall see. 

With mortal eyes, but in eternity. 

And hear, in fine, the strong-lung'd Angel cry. 

With hand uplifted, swear by the Most High, 

One foot on sea, and one upon the shore, 

That time, what we call time, shall be no more. 



JUSTICE AND MERCV. IH 

PROFANE SWEARING. 



Holy and reverend is, O Lord, thy name, 
And dare thy creatures to blaspheme the same ? 
Swearer, I warn thee, be by times apprized, 
Thou all his fury hast not realized. 
What though in scorn thy haughty brow be knit, 
I see destruction on thy forehead writ. 
Not between thee and mortal man's the strife, 
But thee and God, who holds thy soul in life, 
Who says He guiltless will not hold — how plain- 
That man who takes His hallow'd name in vain. 



RELIGION ALWAYS THE SAME. 

Let hypocrites assume Religion's name, 
They change not her, she always is the same. 



' THE LOVE OF MONEY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. 

Some say of evil, money is the root ; 
Not so, but love of it, past all dispute. 



JUSTICE AND MERCY. 

Putasne mortuus homo rursum vivat ? 
If a man die, Bhali he live again? — Job xiv. 14. 

And t/a man die, shall he live again ? 
If his soul be washed from every stain, 
Revive he shall, and in Heaven to reign ; 
But if he shall in his sins expire. 



312 JUSTICE AND MERCr. 

Then, infinite Justice ivUl require 
Him to exist in endless fire. 

Willie in this life we're sufTer'd to stay, 
Of joys and griefs, we each have our day, 
But at Death's call we're hurried away ; 
Now in ihe world that never shall end, 
In Mercy the sinner finds no friend. 
From vengeful wrath his soul to defend. 

But note we're assur'd by Heaven's command. 
Justice and Mercy go hand in hand, 
Through every age, and in every land ; 
Here, if a man will freely consent, 
To i^art with sin, and sincerely repent, 
Me?'cy shall triumph, and Justice relent. 

Here the wheat and the lares together blend, 
So it must be, though the tares offend, 
Till th' Angel of Death his aid shall lend ; 
Sinners are tares that ever have spurn'd, 
Mercy, who them from Sin would have turn'd. 
Noiv in bundles they're bound to be burn'd. 

For the time will come, when all the dead, 
In the air must meet their " living Head;^'" 
Hi?n, who once suflfer'd for the77i, and bled ; 
They who despised and slighted him here, 
With horror their awful dootn shall hear, 
No Mercy now — 'tis Justice severe. 

And that Justice, sure as holy writ, 

Tlie sinner to ^ scape will not permit, 

But ivill the good in Judg??ient acquit. 

For the one oheyd the gospel call. 

The other refused, though ''ttoas to all, 

And noxo on their hcad.-^ must vengeance fall. 



CONNUBIAL HAPPINESS. 113 

Sinners, with all excuse away, 
And be wise to know your gracious day, 
Remember, 'tis dangerous to delay ; 
Be not deceived, God is not mock'd, 
Whate'er by the foohsh may be talk'd, 
All vain expectations will be balk'd. 

For the world to which we all must go. 
Hath places assign 'd of bliss or wo, 
Heaven for its friend, and Hell for its foe ; 
And Heaven's designs sd\ flow from a source, 
That none can stop in its onward course, 
No being the mind of God can force. 

For God hath a will above all wills. 

He maketh alive, or else he kills, 

And preserves the soul from endless ills ; 

Then we our wills to His should submit. 

He knows what's best, and will do what's fit, 

And on His throne eternally sit. 



CONNUBIAL HAPPINESS. 

" Congenial souls alone can prove, 

The pure delights of wedded love," — KeJ. 

That man is form'd averse to pain, 
And Haj'piness pursues, is plain ; 
Yet finds, too oft, to miss he's prone,, 
The place where she resides — alone. 
Now who is she, where does she dwell, 
In Palaces, or Fairy's cell ? 
There was a time she had a home. 
So fix'd, she needed not to roam ; 
But now no more a Queen she reigns, 
O'er Eden's flowery, blissful plains. 
But though dethron'd by one offence, 



1U SUAVITER IN MODO 

She yet to all can Lliss dispense ;. 

And still to reign's lier fav'rite plan, 

AVithin the breast of fallen man, 

AVouldst thou, 3^oung man, with grief opprest 

Have thy lost Queen reign in thy breast? 

Whate'er thy lot, contented be, 

Folly forsake, the Syren flee ! 

'i'hou'lt find, when broke her magic spells. 

The Queen witli true contentment dwells.. 

Or wouldst ihou not alone abide, 

}3ut seek thee out some " charming bride," 

With whom to share life's good and ill.. 

Bethink thee well, thou must fulfil, 

From aught before, a diff'rcnt part, 

When thou hast won the maiden's heart ;■ 

And both have bow'd at Hymen's shrine. 

And, tied the knot, and she is thine — 

Then think ye both, now you're made one. 

How you shall best life's journey run, 

And with its busy cares employ'd, 

All matrimonial strifes avoid. 

And should kind Heaven to you decree, 

A num'rous, rising progeny ; 

While ^rou on them with fondness do.at, 

How their best interests you'll promote ; 

For sure direction do you look? 

You'll find it in God^s Holy Book. 



' SUAVITER IN MODO, SED FORTITER IN RE. 

Too mild his manners e'er to cause heart-aches, 
But firm he is in what he undertakes. 



-J 



KNOCKING AT THE HEART. IK 

MODERATION. 

In ev'ry state, in ev'ry nation, 

To all we'd tender nioderalion ; 

But first, before another line. 

We moderation would define. 

Its meaning is of great extent, 

'Tis temp'rance, discretion, judgment ; 

Which things, in life, well understood, 

May be promotive of much good. 

But if to them we pay no heed. 

Such act may to much mischief lead^ 

And make our lives abound in ills, 

When wisdom governs not our walls. 

Bui if our passions we restrain. 

We've nought to lose, but all to gain. 

Then seek we grace, both day and niglit. 

To think and speak, and act aright,. 

" And have tow'rds man and Providence 

A conscience void of all offence." 



CHRIST KNOCKING AT THE HEART.— RcV. iii. 20, 

Jesus Christ, the Father's Son, 
With whom he is well pleased; 

Leaves the courts of bliss, to save 
A world with sin diseased. 

Lo he stands, and lo he knocks 

At every sinner's heart ; 
Sinners haste to let him in, 

Nor " force him to depart." 

He has come to sup with you, 

And rich provisions brings ; 
Peace and joy — with these he means,. 

To feast his priests and kings. 



116 KNOCKING AT THE HEART. 

If you open then your hearts, 

He surely will come in, 
He alone your souls can cure, 

From the dire sting of sin. 

But from knocking if he cease, 

For ever you are lost ; 
If his Spirit takes its flight, 

You'll know it to your cost. 

Oh be wise your gracious day, 
To know and to improve ; 

Timely preparation make, 
Before you hence remove. 

Then your Saviour's love your'll know, 
While here on earth you stay ; 

And when he your souls requires, 
They'll soar to realms of day. 

Now behold his conquering ones, 
His endless glory share ; 

Seated with him on his throne. 
Unfading crowns they wear. 

Who will run the glorious race. 
And heavenly bliss attain ; 

Do not let the Saviour knock, 
And call on you in vain. 

Mild and gracious still he is. 

And easy to entreat ; 
Then submit yourselves before 

He leaves the mercy seat. 



REFLECTIONS. 117 

REFLECTIONS ON SCENES PASSED THROUGH AT "THREE 
SCORE," AND UPWARDS. 

How strange seem the scenes that have pass'd in our hvcs, 

When arriv'd at the age of three score ; 
And memory freed from the toils of the day, 

Sits lier down to recount those scenes o'er. 

The big sigh is lieav'd, and has flown off in air. 

For the soul by an incubus prest; 
Itself has reliev'd, without aid from tlic will. 

And serenity reigns in the breast. 

She points to the scenes of our childhood, and lo 

A group of gay j^oungsters arise ; 
All blooming in vigor, with health on each cheek,. 

And all sparkling with joy are their ej^^cs. 

Now who is this group, so devoid of those cares, 

Which intrude on a life that is long ? 
Why, memory says that is you — that is me, 

And we know that she does not say wrong. 

For ourselves have we seen both once and again, 

In our children, and grandchildren too ; 
In their sports, their pastimes, their frolics, their fun. 

Wondrous strange though it seems, yet 'tis true. 

Now next see her finger, how steady it points. 

At the scenes as we ripen in age ; 
In which, that Ave all may be useful in life. 

Though they differ, wc all must engage. 

How strange arc those scenes, when so far back they're 
view'd, 

Which, with joy or with grief we've pass'd through ; 
Though fancy might tell us, they're nought but a dream. 

Yet memory says they-'re all true. 



118 REFLECTIONS. 

Again view her index to manhood direct, 

And what strange scenes at this stage of life ! 

Now who is that couple ? do, Memory, say. 
Why, you're the husband — she is your wife ! 

How strange are the trades, the professions, pursuits, 

iVfankind follow by day and by night; 
And how strange it appears so many act wrong, 

And so few do the thing that is right. 

Now lastly behold her on age fix her gaze. 

Such a gaze as makes many afraid ; 
Who shrinking with horror, would fain, could it be. 

Flee herself and her truth-telling aid. 

And say, who would desire to live a long life, 

And then go to give up his account; 
For sins of omission and commission done. 

And by no means a trifling amount ? 

Now this is the reas'ning of many a one, 

And which many has drove to despair ; 
And how strange does it seem, that many deem'd wise, 

All their lifetime are beating the air ? 

But plain is the fact, as the sun at noon day. 
That sorrow may cease, and joy may flow 

From a life though long, if 'tis righteously spent, 
In this troublesome world here below. 

And when shall we say a life's righteously spent ? 

When both motive and action are right ; 
Then good men and Heaven, to declare it is so 

Will each fully and freely unite. 

How strange do the notions of many folks seem, 

Who still for morality cry ; 
And draw all their motives with her from below, 

Which should come from religion on high. 



REFLECTIONS. 119 

And hence some seem doom'd to mistake all their lives, 

Whereas stopping a moment to pause, 
Would show them how far they are sure to come short, 

When effect is preferr'd before cause. 

'Tis strange but to think, and much more so to say, 
" How extravagant man in his schemes ;" 

But strange as it is, 'tis certainly true. 
That he surely is form'd of extremes. 

'Tis certain the universe has its extremes, 

And though lo7}g o'er the subject we've pros'd. 

We come in the end, to acknowledge we find 
He's of matter and spirit compos'd. 

How strange are the things that we cannot explain. 

Let our guesses be ever so shrewd ; 
And so they'll remain, until they're at length 

in the light of eternity view'd. 

And what would eternity ope to our view, 

And what knowledge from thence could we draw ? 

W^hy, there we'd discover things just as they are, 
Controlled by Heaven's paramount law. 

How strange does it seem, that the sons of a king. 

Are but strangers and pilgrims at best ; 
They know that they cannot in time, from time's things, 

E'er elicit a permanent rest. 

Their " rest is polluted" — it is so, of course, 

In this world of disorder and strife; 
They'll only obtain it, when hence they depart, 

There's joy in Heav'n, there's light, and there's life, 

How strange, when arrived at the regions of bliss, 
Will the changing of worlds to them seem ; 

For sorrow and pain, they'll have joys ever new. 
And their souls bathe in love's limpid stream. 



120 THE SCHOLIAD. 

Then memory thou shalt no more tell the years, 
Late in this vale of tears pass'd away; 

But in Heaven commence thine unceasing account, 
And there flourish and never decay. 

Then why should we grieve, if our Maker so will. 
That we long here below should reside ; 

If he fit and prepare us, in Heaven above, 
To dwell with the Lamb and his bride ? 



FRAGMENTS 



THE SCHOLIAD, 



Or the Franklin Juvenile School in Rose-street, A. D., 1311, on the site 
now occupied as the Quaker Meeting. 



PART I. 



As onward in life's rugged road I jog, 

I'll sing the labours of the Pedagogue, 

Who view'd in learning's rear, or in its van, 

Is still a useful, interesting man. 

To whom the great, the arduous task's assign'd, 

" To pour instruction o'er the infant mind." 

And should you see him in his work progress, 

He'd surely seem to you a Hercules ; 

How strange he should so hard a trade pursue, 

Opposed by children, and by parents too. 

Thus spake the teacher, as his eye glanc'd o'er. 

The theme's prolific, unexhausted store. 

Nor thought on Candidus, who read the while. 

But now address'd him with a gracious smile. 

Why prithee, friend, what now is in the wind, 

'Bout labour, learning, pedagogue, and mind ? 

You speak so fluent, and then, all in rhyme, 

Should I suspect your reason, where's the crime ? 



THE SCHOLIAD. 121 

Though not diverted by this pleasantry, 

The Teacher answcr'd in a lower key : 

To some, perhaps, surprising it may seem, 

That I, since Education is my theme. 

In spite of precedents, have rather chose 

To mount on /*e^-asus, than creep in prose ; 

Yet you, my friend, who've known my mind so long, 

You know my motives, come and join my song ; 

You, like mj'^self, this painful path have trod. 

You too have brandish'd the terrific rod. 

Much have you suffcr'd, both from friends and foes, 

Counsell'd b}^ these, and oft opposed by those. 

Come then, and let us show our harmless spite, 

By proving they were wrong and we were right. 

Then, Candidus, where is our recompense. 

To show them fools, devoid of common sense, 

Who, since themselves once through a school havepass'd, 

Such a vast sum of wisdom have amass'd; 

That could you credit all, for truth they said, 

They sure could teach each pedagogue his trade ? 

But while they grieve us with their learning's pride, 

Does cause of blame with them or us reside ? 

Surely, in them ; they cause us great vexation, 

And are intruders on our occupation. 

For try one once, with all his boasted knowledge. 

Say, if you please a graduate from college. 

Then place a book politely in his hand. 

And bid your youngest child before him stand ; 

You'll puzzle him — as sure as fate you'll find, 

'Tis game too low for his exalted mind. 

But the true reason is, if truth he'd own. 

Rather than teach, he would our art be shown. 

What though his learning may to all appear — 

Call you this teaching, one by one to hear ? 

Had I no plan whereby to teach than this. 

Half of my school I quickly might dismiss ; 

And I would praise you for this self-same act, 

Would you quit theory, and stick to fact. 

For into myst'ry you so deeply sink, 

L 



322 NEW-YORK ARSENAL, 

I of your reas'ning know not what to think. 
For your own int'rest, you've a right to feel ; 
Must you defend it by sophistic zeal ? 
Nay, then, a truce, nor more of wrongs I'll prate. 
And cease in future to vituperate. 
What I intended, when I first began — 
Our converse was, to open up the plan 
Which I've pursued, and which I still retain, 
Farewell — I'll give it when we meet again. 



THE NEW-YORK ARSENAL. 

To feast his tivo eyes, with a full intent, 
A true-bred Yankee to the Ars'nal went. 
The gate just open'd, when with hand to hat, 
Who should salute him, but his old friend Piatt ; 
Hah ! glad to see you, sir, step in, pray do. 
And for yourself, my vast encampment view ! 
80 at the word the warlike place they enter. 
Nor stop until arrived just near the centre, 
Our Yankee, then a certain chose espied. 
And turning round to Piatt, close by his side ; 
Tliat thing, there, yonder, by itself, alone, 
Aye, that we call the " Military Cone," 
And, then these guns, how nicely they're paraded, 
My whim — and so the compliment's evaded. 



How long they stay'd, or further talk'd, is fled ; 
This much I know, that General Piatt is dead. 



THE SHIPWRECK. 123 

THE SHIPWRECK. 
CHORUS OMNIUM. 

The friends of distress are of every time, 

Confined to no nation, no kingdom, no clime ; 

Then we'll pledge Swara's Consul, that friend of the poor, 

And the kind-hearted Rais Bel Cossim the Moor. 

A bark from Columbia had cross'd the wide main, 
To a place up the straits, and a part of old Spain ; 
Still held by a foe, who that hold mayn't resign, 
Till the sun, and the moon, and the stars cease to shine. 

Then away for the Island of Mayo they steer'd, 

But sought and long look'd for, that Isle ne'er appear'd ; 

A dense fog involv'd it, a strong current bore 

The ill-fated bark to South Barbary's shore. 

In the dead of the night, while the watch pac'd the deck, 
Nor dreamed that the bark would soon prove a wreck ; 
In a moment she struck on a high bank of sand, 
The distance three cables at least from the land. 

O think of the dread of the crew waked from sleep, 
Her bow on the strand, and her stern in the deep; 
While darkness Egyptian, a darkness profound, 
Drowns objects above, and below, and around. 

And when morning return'd it no joy brought along, 
Although that the vessel was still tight and strong; 
Barr'd out from the sea, what a pitiful case, 
While Blanco's steep rocks stared them full in the face. 

Yet as darkness receded and lighter it grew, 
One thing while it gladden'd amazed the whole crew ; 
* * CcBtera desunt. * * * 



124 PRAYER. 

Adieu, Cajjt. Rile}'-, thy Swiss friend no more, 
Shall waft thee in safely from old Mogadore ; 
No more shall thy decks feel his ponderous tread, 
For thy Captain is number'd, O Tell, with the dead. 

But why didst thou not to thy promise adhere, 
And why swear an oath, and that oath not revere ? 
Why didst thou dread Heaven provoke to decree, 
That not on the land thou shouldst die, but at sea ? 

Yet the reason I know, and why need I ask more? 
Too large was thy heart, and too scanty thy store ; 
Yet I hope that thy reck'ning proved straight in the end, 
And in Heaven's lair climes Til strike hands with my 
friend. 



PRAYER. 

God nothing owes to fallen man, 
To Him we all things owe ; 

And He whene'er He j)leascs, can 
On us all good bestow. 

We His dependent creatures are, 

And ev'ry moment need 
His guardian Providence and care. 

To be from danger freed. 

While on our journey to the sky, 
We're compass'd round with ill; 

Wliich mounts above, howe'er we try,. 
All human strength and skill. 

Then why ashamed or why afraid, 

To say, O God above, 
Grant me, while here, Almighty aid, 

Then take me to Thy love ? 



REFORM. 125 

God will be sought to for His grace, 

His grace we must request ; 
Man earnestly must seek His face, 

Or live and die unblest. 



REFORxM. 



We're fallen on evil days, 

The times are evil indeed ; 
Iniquity stalks abroad, 

And sadly Reform we need ! 

And who the work has begun. 
And who has struck out the plan 

Which each of us should pursue ? 
Pray let us know who's the man. 

And what is reform, we would ask. 
In what does the practice consist, 

Our courses of ill to amend, 
Nor longer to live as we list. 

For man is evil by nature, 

As he shows by his daily walk ; 

And to rate him higher than this. 
Is certainly idle to talk. 

Or is it old forms to improve. 

And fix them and frame them anew ; 
Or shall we our new ones give up, 

And once more the old ones pursue ? 

What sort of reform do we need ? 

I pray you my friend to relate ; 
Do we want it alone in Church, 

Or both in the Church and the State ? 



126 THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 

Ask the man wlio tills llie ground, 
And what do you say my friend ;: 

And when do you think to reform, 
And your wayward ways amend ? 

We ought to consider our ways, 
And bring them out into the light; 

We do WTong in thousands of ways. 
But only in one can do right. 

The farmer refers you to others : 

Says he, " while the seasons are good ;. 

What need of reform while the earth 
Yields a plentiful store of food ?" 

Away t© the Artist we go, 

And then of the Merchant inquire, 

Don't you think that the times are bad. 
And reform don't j^ou each desire ? 

" Wh}^ bad cnougli sure are the times^ 
And that to our sorrow we know ; 

But" — what, all the question evade. 
Then drop it, we'll leave it just so ' 



THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 



A day will come, of pomp and gi-eat parade, 

" The day for which all other days were made."" 

The judgment day, emphatically so. 

Wherein all judgments form'd before will flow ; 

As rivers great, or smaller they may be, 

Run on, are lost and swallow'd by the sea. 

How vast the view ! while o'er the scene we gaze. 

It fills the mind with terror and amaze ! 

Before the Judge, behold on either hand. 

The countless millions, human beings stand ;. 



THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 12T 

How pale the faces on the left appear, 

Their souls distracted with foreboding fear, 

No signs their eyes of an escape now greet, 

Angels with flaming swords prevent retreat ; 

As raarshal'd first, there waiting stand they must. 

To hear the dreaded setitence of the " Just." 

But on the right a different scene behold, 

A sight so glorious, how can it be told ? 

Beside th' angelic first-born sons of light. 

Who still excel, as they were form'd in might. 

There stand those jewels to the Judge so dear, 

And in long ranks of shining white appear ; 

No stain of sin on their pure robes is seen. 

In the Lamb's blood they wash'dand made them, clean. 

Joyous each waits to hear his sentence given, 

" Faithful, luell done, come reign with me in Heaven." 

How large the triumph, how Heaven's arches ring. 

While glorious souls in glorious bodies sing. 

Ah, who a glorious body can portray ? 

Think ye 'tis abstract metaphysics 1 nay ! 

Nor learning deep the wondrous change explain, 

Yea, most sublime Philosophy in vain 

May try, throughout her ample stores to find. 

An image fit to satisfy the mind 

Of him, who seeks in liglit distinct and clear. 

To see what doth not in this life appear. 

'Till then, in Heaven those eyes restor'd to sight. 



But, here, admonish'd by a friendly voice. 
We drop the subject, by constraint, not choice. 



128 DISJECTA MEMBRA POETIC. 

ANALECTA. 
DISJECTA MEMBRA POETjE. HoT, 

Suppose into an Artist's shop, 
At any time you chanc'd to stop, 

To view the portraits he had made ^ 
He'd show you first the finished ones, 
Fathers and mothers, daughters, sons, 

Decked out in ev'ry hue and shade. 

Next those at various times begun. 
All incomplete, some nearly done, 

To wait a future day ; 
And these no doubt with patient mind, 
The artist all along design'd ; 

As serious efforts, not of play. 

And yet the mind with labor tires, 
And relexation oft requires, 

To nerve its energies once more ; 
So round the room we may espy, 
A foot, a leg, an arm, an eye, 

Or other parts strew'd on the floor.. 

In this last light, pray reader, view, 
Our Analecta through and through. 

As scraps, or shreds, or to be plain, 
'■^ ApoeVs limbs" — a mass of rhymes, 
That soolh'd his mind at diff'rent times,. 

As helps its vigor to regain. 



REFLECTION. 129 

A WOUNDED SPIRIT. 

"The spirit ofa man may sustain his infirmities, but a wounded spirit 
who can bear?" 

Man by his strenglh of spirit may 

His weaknesses sustain ; 
But only wound that spirit once, 

How can he bear the pain ? 



FALSE APPEARANCES. 

Satan, though he may clothe himself in light, 
Is still the devil, full of rage and spite. 
Our Head he slew, his children calls his own, 
And would the King of heav'n himself dethrone. 
But he is chain'd, and shorter grows that chain, 
He tries to break it, but he tries in vain. 
Rave on, once princely, tow'ring son of morn, 
Heaven's safe, and laughs thy cruel rage to scorn. 
There is a point — beyond this world 'tis found. 
When heaven's dread voice shall pierce the solid ground j 
Thou to that point unwillingly must go, 
To hear thy sentence of unending wo — 
Thence thrust to Hell — Heaven's vengeance shall pur- 
sue. 
For ever — thee and thine accursed crew. 



REFLECTION. 



Sinner — if thou wouldst not share 
Satan's portion, then beware — 
Now repent, begin to pray, 
This is thy probation-day ; 



130 SPEIGHTS. 



Now to part with sin consent, 
After death none can repent. 



A CAUTION. 



Would you escape the wrath impending. 
Break off from sin and cease offending. 



THE OLD AND NEW MAN. DlVlght, 

When the new man his work suspends^ 
'Tis then the old one his extends. 



DECISION. 



^Tis an old saying, older far than me. 
Who shall decide, when doctors disagree ? 



DANDYISM. 



His speech abundant, useless words betrayed, 
Which folly form'd, and custom current made. 



SPRIGHTS. 



Many have written and spoken of sprights, 
Who gambol, and frolic, and sport by nights ; 



POLITICS. 131 



All on the tops of the mountains so drear, 
And make the poor traveller quake with fear. 



BOMBAST. 



Thus fell my brother on that fatal day, 
And pass'd unheeded from the world away. 



SINCERITY. 



That he intends to tell you, don't suppose, 
In plaintive accents of unreal woes ; 
Such thoughts dwell not within his honest heart. 
He scorns to act a base deceiver's part. 



POLITICS. 



Not with political concerns he'll plague you, 

Bad news to some you might give the ague ; 

And make you feel so cold, that he, alas ! 

Might slip your mem'ries and unheeded pass, 

Or with your interests should they coincide, 

'Long with the pleasant theme your thoughts might glide , 

Leave other cares behind at distance far — 

The poet's views would this not tend to mar ? 

If on this ticklish topic then he enters, 

Full well he knows that danger in it centres. 

Knows 'tis a masterpiece of policy, 

With politics to meddle cautiously ; 

But if you wish them still — peruse the papers, 

And there forget yourselves and catch the vapours. 



133 YOUTH. 

COLD WEATHER. 

I will not tell you how rude Boreas wars, 
That may be known by stepping out o' doors. 
I'm no star-gazer, therefore won't offend, 
And say the stars sad omens do portend ; 
Or threaten us with an inclement season, 
For the above-said special reason. 



MISSPENT TIME, 



He spends the morning of his precious time, 
In pleasure and in perpetrating crime ; 
Death comes and meets the sinner in the way, 
Extends his arm and seizes on his prey ; 
Then his eyes open to his lost estate. 
He cries "reprieve" — but ah ! he cries too late. 



PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 

Are parents treated in too harsh a way ? 
Then of their offspring not one word we'll say. 



YOUTH. 



For that to youth you must these trusts consign, 
Experience teaches with a voice divine. 



CONCLUDING A PIECE. 133 

PATIENCE UNDER SUFFERING, 

Suffer on aiid out your hour, 
Patience is the suff'ring power ; 
Suffer 'till your life expire, 
Though it be in flames of lire. 
So wiien Death shall raise the curtain, 
Then you'll know and feel for certain, 
That with you life's ills are o'er, 
And you ne'er shall suffer more. 



POTENTIAL REASONS ASSIGNED. 

All subjects foreign to the main design 
I have in view, I therefore must decline. 
My Muse too bids me not to prosecute 
Another theme, or else she says she's mute. 
This sage advice then whispers in my ear, 
And bids me follow it as well as hear ; 
" Do as your betters long before have done, 
And learn to take good care of number one." 
Your Muse is venal then, perhaps you'll say, 
In whose behalf your poet asks straightway ? 



CONCLUDING A PIECE. 

Now to the point our story hastens fast. 
Imprimis — always keep in mind the past — 
Though some might wish oblivion's shade conceal'd 
Those deeds which their own folly has reveal'd ; 
And made them subjects for a sneering world. 
Which odium on their characters has hurl'd. 



134 A SONNET. 

TRUTH. 



To think aright, much more aright to speak, 
With single eye Truth always let us seek — 
Then whatsoe'er we think, or say, or do. 
The God of Truth will bear us safely through. 



POLITENESS. 



For if politeness should all actuate, 
Then of society there rests the fate ; 
'Tis its procuring cause, as reason shows, 
It to politeness its existence owes. 



A SONNET. 



Emblem of the hlly fair. 

Love make her thy peculiar care ; 

Into her ear the tenderest tales, 

Zephyrs breathe in gentlest gales. 

Tell her how I pine and languish, 

How my breast is fill'd with anguish ; 

And creation dreary seems. 

Then at night those restless dreams. 

Tell her I can never rest. 

Till with her consent I'm blcss'd — 

Tell her — " fairest, let thy mind 

To thy love-sick swain be kind ;" 

Then he no more shall slighted love bemoan, 

Nor fairest, dearest, live and die alone. 



PASSING OVER THE SCHUYLKILL. 1^ 

THE WHOLE DUTY OF MAN. 

Would'st thou of thy whole duty know the plan ? 
"Fear God, and his commandments keep" — O man! 



PRAYING WILL MAKE US LEAVE OFF SINNING, OR, SIN- 
NING WILL MAKE US LEAVE OFF PRAYING." 



Sinners pray, why live in sin ? 

While you sin you will not pray ; 
Timously the work begin, 

Dread you not the Judgment day? 



ON PASSING THE ONE ARCHED BRIDGE OVER THB 
SCHUYLKILL, PA. 

The toll-man by the toll-gate stood, 

And open was his hand; 
" We wish to cross this bridge of yours, 

How much is your demand ?" 

" One cent a-piece for each of you ;" 

I quickly gave him two ; 
When these he'd nimbly slid apart 

A fip appeared in view. 

" See there," said he, " behold this piece, 

Do take it back again ; 
That you design'd to cheat me is 

To be denied too plain." 

Though said in joke, I took the hint. 

It was a precious hit ; 
A truly handsome specimen 

Of Pennsylvania wit. 



13« AN ADDRESS. 

I onward mov'd, and nought replied, 
Nor in my turn was witty ; 

So did not tell him whence I came, 
From York or Jersey City. 

Yet here we might upon the fact, 
By way of caution say ; 

Look at, examine well, before 
Your change you pay away. 



AN ADDRESS, 

Written for the " Rutgers-slreet Select Missionary Society," to be spo- 
ken by a colored boy 14 years of age, belonging to one of the classes. 

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, 

The best of hooks informs us all, 
That once this earth was drown'd ; 

So drown'd that not one living soul 
Upon its face was found. 

Yet that within a spacious ark. 

By Heaven in safety kept, 
For forty days eight human souls, 

There ate, and drank, and slept. 

And farther, when the rain held up, 

And earth appear'd again ; 
They left their ark upon the hill,. 

And went down to the plain. 

Now Noah had three sons alive,. 

To people earth once more ; 
And spread their father's fame abroad — 

Where'er a plant it bore. 



AN ADDRESS. 137 

The one named Shem, in Asia stay'd, 

And this he made his home ; 
And Japheth branching off from thence, 

Did into Europe roam. 

To Afric's sultry, sun-scorch'd cHme, 

Ham's grandson found his way; 
And there my sable ancestors 

Reside until this day. 

But now Columbia is found out, 

The land with freedom bless'd ; 
Here folks of ev'ry hue appear, 

And I among the rest. 

Ladies and Gents, I've told the truth, 

You now have my excuse ; 
Pray think how hard a thing it is, 

One's self to introduce. 

And now I have some other things 

Of grave import to tell ; 
And shall I say 'twill break my heart, 

Unless you take it well ? 

Believe me I'm no «??tiquary, 

Yet this I'll say outright ; 
To hear of mission things you are 

Invited here to-night. 

A mission is a sending forth 

A missionary man; 
To bring the unbelievers to 

Be Christians if he can. 

He takes his hfe within his hands, 

To barb'rous lands he hies ; 
And heat and cold, and hunger too, 

He each of them defies. 



i38 AN ADDRESS. 

All these he bears, and far much more, 
Which cannot now be told ; 

In hopes he may some more sheep add,, 
Unto his master's fold. 

And does he labor all alone, 
Without his chosen friend ? 

No, no, his Saviour's with him still. 
Until the world shall end. 

Yet he like us is flesh and blood, 

In want of many things. 
Which only can be furnished by 

The aid that mammon brings. 

Now here we've met to celebrate 
Our annual mission night ; 

To help the man we've sent far West ;• 
We ask you if 'tis right ? 

Four Classes we, in social bonds 

United by one heart; 
One Golor'd, and the three of white, 

All strive to do our part. 

Yet though we do our very best, 
Still we would have you know ; 

Kind friends excuse, j^et out it must, 
Our funds are very low. 

And shall our Saviour ask in vain. 

In vain demand of you ; 
And " Rutger's Mission School select, 

And little Darky too ?" 

It cannot be I think, while I 
Behold each smiling face ; 

There is not one that hears me now, 
That's so devoid of grace. 



IDLERS. 139 

Then send, kind friends, some more relief, 

And so be ever bless'd. 
Unto our faithful mission man, 

Who labors in the West. 



Do GOOD. 

What then ? do all the good, in time, you can,. 
There's always life for ev'ry living man. 



RIDICULE NOT THE TEST OF TRUTH, 

In vain you fly to liJicule, 

Truth can't be lesled by this rule.. 



W^IT AMD JUDGMENT. 



Wit, though stinging, bushwrood 'tis, 
But Judgment solid timber is.. 



SYNTHESIS AND ANALYSIS'. 

Observe — all objects Synthesis combiner, 
While, contra-wise Analysis disjoins. 



IDLERS. 



Idlers great critics are. 

And fault they always find , 



14l> MOTIVE AND ACTION. 

They'll tell you how to work,. 

According to their mind. 
But let thf^7n feel the heat 

And burden of the day ; 
The diff'rence then we see. 

Between to do, and say. 



THE HUMAN HEART. 

The human heart — alas how changed f 
Once it was right, but now deranged ; 
He who His works well understood, 
At first pronounced them " very good ;" 
But man, pursuing crooked ways, 
Is evil styled in Scripture phrase. 
His heart once soft is turned to stone,. 
He cannot for his sins atone. 
And should he offer'd grace despise, 
He'll die the death that never dies. 



MOTIVE AND ACTION. 
For God seetli not as man seeth. — Samtiet. 

While man regards the outward show. 
Thence his decisions all must flow; 
But God beholds the inward part, 
He looks directly at the heart. 

|So erring man sad mischief makes. 
And action for the motive takes ; 
With God, and not as man on earth, 
The motive stamps the action's worth. 



vox ET PRiETEREA NIHIL. 141 

Now since within the mind are things 
That are controll'd by secret springs ; 
Judge not too harshly foe nor friend ; 
But charity to each extend. 

Then with the gospel torch in hand, 
Attentive to its strict command, 
Our motives purify we may, 
And fit our souls for endless day. 



BETTING, OR WAGERING. 

If betting nothing can decide, 
The practice then should be decried ; 
For if you lose or if you get, 
'Tis fact alone decides the bet. 



FIAT JUSTITIA RUAT CCELUM. 



Let Justice, if strict and impartial, be done. 

Though the Heavens themselves into ruin should run^ 



"vox ET PR^TEREA NIHIL. 

How mortifying to one's pride. 
To be a voice and nought beside ^ 



14S THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE, 

ON THE PROSPECT OF RETURNING TO NEW-YORK, AFTER 
THE WAR, IN 1815. 

For thee, New-York, my much loved home I sigh, 
There let me live, O Heaven, there let me die. 



THE WASTER, OR THIEF IN THE CANDLE. 

While at my book my pen so light I handle. 
My wife cries out, " waster in the candle !" 
Quick, get two forks, stick them on either side. 
And then no smoky flame shall upward glide. 



THE SWORD AND CANE. 

Whene'er a soldier I behold, 
Why should it give me pain ? 

For if I cannot wear a sword, 
I surely may a cane. 



PORTRAITS WITHOUT WIGS. 

Fie on the Painter and his cruel rigs. 

To paint such great men and forget their wigs. 



THE CHRISTIAN S HOPE. 



The Christian's hope is like a Seraph's smile, 
It can misfortune's darkest hours beguile ; 
Nor can it perish while his life shall last ; 
" Within the vale it is an anchor cast ;" 



A TOAST. 143 

There sure and steadfast his firm hope abides, 
Until his soul the storms of life outrides : 
All other hopes delusive are and vain, 
Begun in pleasure, ending still in pain. 



KINDNESS. 



Such is the texture of the human mind, 

It rhymes in fact, as well as verse with — kind. 



THE WORLD S EPITAPH. 

Ah ! hard and harsh and cruel world. 
Thou wilt at last in smoke be curled ; 
Thy crimes are great, they mount the sky, 
And call for vengeance from on high. 
Ah! cruel world, go on — offend — 
Till fire consuming proves thine end. 



THE OLD MAN S REFLECTION UPON A CHILD S TREADING 
ON HIS TOES. 

Our children wlien young oft tread on our toes, 

Yet this we forget nor count with our woes ; 

But when they're grown up comes the keenest of smarts, 

For then they're prepared to tread on our hearts. 



A NATIONAL TOAST. 



Here's " Uncle SarrC — and his mistress beside 'irn, 
A beautiful couple let who will deride 'em ; 



144 QUEEN VICTORIA. 

Her name is *' Liberty,^'' free from pollution, 

May they live all their days with a sound " Constitution. 



QUEEN VICTORIA, AND HER MARRIAGE WITH PRINCE 
ALBERT. 

Old England's Queen, 
Fair Victorine, 

Hear how she sighs ! 
Look out gallants, 
A mate she wants, 

A crown's the prize. 

The plan arranged. 
The scene is changed ; 

All bright's the one ; 
Time onward flows, 
A daughter shows, 

But not a son. 

What's to be done ? 
We'll sec anon, 

Which will prevail ; 
Old time mayhap, 
May show a chap, 

A sturdy male ; 

Who living, may 
The sceptre sway 

O'er Albion. 
Then Britons say, 
" O Lord, we pray, 

Give us a son." 



MARRIED HARMONY. 145 

INSCRIBED IN AN ANNUAL PRESENTED TO MISS S^^^^^j^. 



An annual comes but once a year, 
Yet comes to bring its annual cheer. 
Sweet maid accept both will and deed, 
And for my sake this annual read. 



I 



MARRIED HARMONY. 

Worthy persons were they both, 

As any in the place ; 
And as ha]:)py might have lived, 

If they had had the grace. 

To compromise their feelings, 
Nor try conviction's pow'r, 

Agreement would have lasted 
Througliout each day and hour. 



i 



A BRIEF HISTORY 

or THE 

LIFE OF THE AUTHOR 

OF 

THE SPECIMENS, 

From the time of Jiis Birth to the year IS 11. 



ARGUME^'T. 

The Author, born in the Stale of New-Jersey, comes at the age ofeight 
years to reside in the City of New-York. 

The xVuthor is unable to trace his ancestry any further 
back than to his Great Grandfather, and of him he has 
learned no more, than that he came from the City of Lon- 
don, and settled in one of the Eastern States ; but in 
which particular one he was never given to understand. 
His Grandfather, Ishmael Shippey, and his Grandmo- 
ther, whose maiden name was Elizabeth Briggs, came 
from Rhode Island, probably some twenty or thirty years 
before the war of the Revolution, to reside in that part 
of the State of New- Jersey, which is called Raritan Land- 
ing. 

This small Village is situated near the Raritan River, 
about two miles above tlie City of New-Brunswick. In 
tliis village, the Author's father, John Shippey, was (he 
believes) born, and he is certain that lie lived and died 
there, in the year 1808, at the age of sixty years. The 
Author's mother, whose maiden name was Phoebe Goss- 



p 



148 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

ner, came from the mountains, a few miles above Bound- 
brook, which is five miles distant from the llaritan Land- 
ing, and up the River Raritan. By her lineage she was 
German, as is clearly indicated by her family name, 
Gossner ; so that the Author claims kindred with Eng- 
land on his father's, and with (lermany on his mother's side. 

According to information received from his mother, 
the Author was born at the above named village, on the 
first day of February, 1778, and shortly thereafter was 
christened by the Rev. Mr. Reed, Pastor of the Congre- 
gation of Non-Conformists, originally called Presbyteri- 
ans, from their admitthig lay-Elders into their church 
government, at Boundbrook ; his parents being of that 
persuasion. 

The peculiar state of the times, no doubt, contributed 
materially in determining the choice of the Author's pre- 
noraen. The British and Hessians had possession of 
this part of Jersey ; the Author's father was in the station 
of Lieutenant and Adjutant of the Woodbridge Brigade, 
commanded by General Hurd, in the service of the Uni- 
ted States ; his uncle Josiah, in England, whither he had 
been sent for trial as a rebel against the government of 
his most sacred Majesty, fidei defensor, &c.,* George the 
Third ; and the Author being the only surviving male 
child of his parents, was, as he presumes, for these, and 
perhaps other determining reasons, christened Josiah. 

With this name the Author has always been pleased, 
and knew its signification, long before Bailey informed 
him that it denoted the '^Jire of the Lurdy' and "a pious 
king of Judah." 

Passing over many occurrences which might prove un- 
interesting to the reader — the Author contents himself 
with observing, generally, on this part of his liistory — 
that, the war being ended in 1782, and the independence 
of the United States of America acknowledged by the 
parent country, Great Britain ; his father rcbuilded his 
liousc, which had been burned by the British and lies- 

* Defender of the Faith, a title given by Pope Leo X. to King Henry 
Vnt, of England, for writing against Ln'.her. 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 149 

sians, after they had used it for a barrack ; and being 
comfortably situated on his small farm of upland and 
meadow, on the Raritan river, about one mile and a half 
from the City of New Brunswick ; the Author was sent 
to the village school to acquire the rudiments of an Eng- 
lish elementary education, where he continued until the 
eighth year of his age. 

In the interim the Author's uncle had returned from 
England, having been acquitted of the charge of rebellion, 
on the representation of some refugee New- York mer- 
chants, ihat he was " one of the most peaceable men in 
America," — he commenced mercantile business in the 
stone store, at the S. E. corner of Water-sireet and Coen- 
ties Slip, in partnership with Messrs. Thomas Ten Eyck 
and Edmund Seaman, under the firm of " Josiah Shippey 
Sc Co." They were in the Holland and East India trade. 
Growing tired, however, of keeping " Bachelor's Hah," 
with his German servant, John Francis Hamslinger, who 
had been a soldier in the British army, he seiit a request 
to his eldest unmarried sister, m}'' aunt Mary, to come to 
New-York, and bring the Author with her, and take the 
charge of the house he had rented in Pearl-street, near 
the Battery. His request was complied with on the part 
of his sister ; and the Author accompanying his aunt, ar- 
rived with her at New-York, the place of their destina- 
tion, some lime in the spring of 1786. 



The .A.iithor is sent to Sciinol, mid from thence to Cohimbia College. 
His Uncle and Aunt remove to New-Jersey, taking with them the Au- 
thor. They return to New-York. The AiUlior goes into the store with 
his Uncle, continues tliere awiiile, and then returns to Cohuubia Col- 
lege, where he graduated in the year 1796. 

And now, comleous Reader, imagine, if you can, the 
sensations produced in the luind of the Author, by a tran- 
sition from an obscure country village to a large and 
populous city, at his particularly tender time of life. 

But his business at present is rather to consist in a 



150 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

narration of facts, than in the indulgence of fanciful con- 
jectures. His Uncle having arranged with Mr. Malcolm 
Campbell, a teacher of English and Latin, the Author 
Avas sent to his school, then kept on Golden Hill, John- 
street, near Cliff-street — to be by him instructed sufti- 
ciently to enable him to enter Columbia College, as a 
student in that literary establishment. 

The Author would here observe, that this arrangement 
in his favor was rather in accordance with the wishes of 
his Aunt, than with the designs of his Uncle ; his views 
were more mercantile than classicaL On the contrar}', 
iiis Aunt, being a pious God-fearing woman, a communi- 
cant of Dr. Joini Rogers' church in Wall-street, feeling 
that one of the fondest wishes of her heart would be grat- 
ified, if she could see her nephew in the ministry, per- 
suaded her brother to give him a liberal education. But 
Providence did not permit her to realize the fruit of her 
benevolent intentions towards her nephew ; she died, he 
thinks, of the yellow fever of '98, and was buried in her 
native state, the state of New^-Jersey, at, or near the city 
of New Brunswick. 

May she be his guardian angel now, as she most as- 
suredly was while on this earth; for she loved him, if 
possible, with more than maternal fondness ; a fondness 
which extended beyond this vale of tears, penetrating to 
the throne of the heavenly grace ; and there supplicating 
with fervent and effectual prayer the regeneration of his 
immortal soul. 

To return : — At the age of thirteen years, the Author's 
preceptor reported him prepared to enter College, and, 
accordingly, with his schoolmate, afterwards the Rev. 
James Inglis, he did enter the Freshman class, and had 
his place assigned him, ninnber four among thirty-tw^o, 
the number of which that class originally consisted. 

It is not the intention of the Author, neither ought it 
to be expected, in giving this succinct account, or history 
of his life, to enter as minutely into particulars, as though 
he were writing a narrative which would swell a volume 
to many hundred pages. 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. IGl 

He must, therefore, only glance, with almost as much 
brevity at the events of a life of upwards of threescore 
years continuance, as do the arguments with which each 
chapter is prefaced. 

In continuation, then, he informs his readers that after 
remaining with his class about eighteen months, his Un- 
cle and Aunt removed to the place of their nativity, in 
New-Jersey, taking with them the Author, and his broth- 
er Wdliam ; and after a short stay of about six months, 
returned to New-York, and again commenced housekeep- 
ers- 

The Author continued with his Uncle and Aunt ; his 

brother was put into the Counting House of Mr. Nicholas 
Hoffman, an importing merchant, and part owner of the 
Ship Ellis; whether immediately after, or at some time 
subsequently to the return to New-York, (he Author docs 
not now recollect. 

His Uncle, being a man of activity and enterprise, 
soon re-embarked in trade, and commenced the Salt bu- 
siness, with Mr. James Yan Dyke, under the firm of Van 
Dyke and Shippey, in Front-street, near Coeniics Slip, 
The Author went into the store as a Clerk, and so con- 
tinued for about the space of one year, when a difference 
arisincr between him and the senior partner of the firm, 
he quitted their employ. 

His kind Aunt, steady to her original purpose, persua- 
ded the Author to ret\u-n to College ; application was 
made by his Uncle to the Trustees, and they in consid- 
eration of his former good standing, permitted him to en-. 
ter the class next below the one in which he originally 
entered. And this may serve to satisfy any person, de- 
sirous of being informed on the subject, why the Author 
eniered in one class, and graduated, as per the Catalogue 
of Columbia College, in another, in the year 1796, 



152 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 



The Author returns to the Counting House. Dissolution of Partnership. 
The .Author becomes a married luan. Yellow fever in 1803. Return 
to New- York. Enters into business in partnership, as a wholesale 
and retail Grocer. 

The business of cultivating the intellect at College 
having come to a close, and the Author declining the of- 
fer of his Uncle to furnish him with the means to prose- 
cute his studies in either of the learned professions he 
might select ; it was agreed that he should re-enter the 
Counting House, and study the profession of Merchan- 
dizing, under his Uncle and his parlner. In this emplov 
the Author continued until a dissolution of partnership 
took place. Mr. Van Dyke being an aged man, retired 
from business and the bustle of New-York to the State 
of New-Jersey, and ended his days in the pleasant City 
of Newark, situated near the banks of the Passaic, 
about eight miles from New-York. 

The Author continued in the employ of his Uncle un- 
til the year 1800, when, being tired of leading a single 
life, he took unto himself a wife, and so, on the 28th day 
of August, the same year, became a married man. By 
this wife he had issue, nine childien, viz : six sons and 
three daughters, three of the sons died in the birth ; the 
remaining children were born in the City of New- York, 
except one daughter, who was born in Belleville, New- 
Jersey, during the Yellow Fever which prevailed in 
New- York, in 1803. 

Shortly after the return of the Author, with his family 
from New-Jersey, some time early in the Spring of 1804, 
he entered into partnership with Major Samuel Cooper, 
in the wholesale and retail Grocery business, under the 
firm of Cooper and Shippey, at Coentie§ Slip, east side 
near Front-street. In this firm the Author continued 
about eight months, and then dissolved. The cause of 
this dissolution was the want of sufiEi-cient capital to car- 
ry on the business advantageously enough for the sup- 
port of two families. 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 153 

The business was not a City, but a Country business ; 
the Country merchants wore tardy in making their re- 
mittances, and the payment of the notes given for Spring 
and Fall purchases, could not be evaded. More capital 
was required, and this the Author could not supply ; his 
Uncle's affairs having become embarrassed by his incau- 
tiously bonding and endorsing for several merchants in 
New- York, to an amount which swept away his fast 
property and other resources, and obliged him to begin 
the world anew. Dissolution of partnership, therefore, 
or failure became absolutely unavoidable ; and the first 
was resorted to, in preference to the latter. 

The Author stops not to comment on the beautiful ef- 
fects produced by the " credit system,'''' in New-York and 
elsewhere ; nor to lament the loss of property, which, for 
several years, he helped his Uncle to acquire, and to a 
part of which, at least, as his adopted son, he thought 
himself entitled ; but would merely inform the reader, 
that at this period the dissolution of the firm of Cooper 
and Shippey, wholesale and retail Grocers, &c., termin- 
ated, doubtless, for ever the mercantile career of the Au- 
thor of the Specim.ens, and Notes to the same. 



The Author commences Clerk on his own account. Becomes reli- 
gious, and joins the M. E. fJhurcii in New York. Is appointed Clerk 
of the Alms House, Clerk ofthe N. Y. Hospital, and is afterwards re- 
appointed Clerk ofthe A. H.,and Clerk to the Commissioners of the 
same. Leaves the A. H. and comnflences School-keeping. 

The first clerkship the Author obtained was one with 
Hoffman, Seton, & Co., auctioneers in Wall-street. 
But this being an out-door one, and producing only a 
small per diem compensation, the Author gladly accept- 
ed the proposal ofthe Superintendent ofthe Alms House, 
his friend, and brother Methodist, Philip J. Arcularius, 
Esq., to apply to the Corporation forthe clerkship of that 
Institution. He applied accordingly, and received the 
appointment of Clerk to the Alms House, he thinks on 



154 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

the fifth day of June 1805, at a salary of $500 per annum, 
and perquisites. 

This appoinlmentwas a seasonable relief to the Author,, 
his family at this time, including himself, amounting to 
five in number. 

And here the Author is admonished to correct an an- 
achronism, or, "an error in placing a fact or event later 
than it really was," and that is the time of his becoming 
a Methodist. He thinks this event must have occurred 
at least two years previously to his appointment as Clerk 
of the Alms House. The Records of the Church could 
determine this ; yet he well remembers that the Rev. 
Thomas Morrell, was Minister at the Old Methodist 
Church in John-street, when his wife and he went for- 
ward and joined themselves to the connexion. He also, 
on further reflection, remembers, while at Belleville, dur- 
ing the fever of 1803, his acquaintance with the Rev. 
John Dowe, Methodist Minister at that place. So then, 
courteous Reader, the Author was a Methodist before he 
was appointed Clerk of the Alms House. Have the 
goodness therefore, to pardon the anachronism in his ar- 
gument, and permit him to proceed, straight forward in 
his history. 

In this same year, 1805, the city of New- York was 
visited wiih that much dreaded calamity, the yeUotofevei\ 
The Health Office was at the corner of Chambers-street 
and Broadway, and every evening the book of the day's 
transactions was sent to the Alms House, that the Clerk 
might attend to the calls for orders to the Keeper of Pot- 
ter's Field, and Coffins and Hearse. In consequence of 
which arrangement the Autlior, for the space of six weeks, 
never slept in a bed ; but took his repose, leaning his head 
on the Office table. Besides which, the Health Officers 
having ordered him to bring his family into the Alms 
House, his wife while there, took the fever, but recover- 
ed shortly thereafter. For this extra service, not long 
after the fever had ceased its ravages in the city, the 
Corporation raised his salary to §600. 

The Author continued in this service until the Super-. 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 155 

intendent was displaced by anclhcr Corporation, calling 
themselves Federal ; he, P. J, Arculanus, Esq. having 
had the office for two years, viz. 1805 and 180(5. 

The former Superintendent, Riciiard Furman, Esq., 
being reappointed, and wishing to have again his Private 
Clerk, George A Valentine, the Author applied for, and 
obtained the Clerkship of the New- York Hospital, Jo- 
tham Post, Esq. being the then Superintendent of that 
Institution. The Author continued in this situation for 
thirteen months, fulfilling the duties of Clerk to the Hos- 
pital, and Check-clerk for the " Asylum for the Insane," 
then in building for the second year, receiving $600 per 
annum, and a house to live in, in Barley-street, now called 
Duane-street. 

The Corporation becoming Republican again, the Au- 
thor was reappointed to his old situation and resumed its 
duties ; and a new Board of Commissioners being ap- 
pointed by the Corporation, they appointed him their 
Clerk, at a compensation that raised his whole salary to 
$700 per annum. In this employ he continued during the 
two years Superintendency of William Mooney, Esq. 
The Corporation, becomingonce more Federal, and Rich- 
ard Furman, Esq. reappointed Superintendent, the Au- 
thor resigned his Clerkship, and commenced the business 
of teacliins; school. 



The Author teaches school for about two years in New- York. Removes 
to Herkimer. War breaks out. Leaves Herkiaier and comes to Al- 
bany. Is Clerk to his Excellency the Governor. Peace proclaimed. 
Returns to New-York with his family. 

The Author, considering a Clerkship as rather a pre- 
carious mode of obtaining a living; determined to try 
what success might attend his labors in teaching a school. 

He felt satisfied that his education abundantly fitted 
him for suclian undertaking. Without suspecting, how- 
ever, the immense responsibility attached to this mode of 
life, and the many vexations with which it is attended; 



156 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

he purchased the good will of the Bunker Hill Academy^ 
kept by a Mr. John W. Purdy, in Mulberry, near Grand- 
street. And now no longer either '^ J'tochutrophii vel 
Nosocomii scriba,^^* but the Principal of a promiscuous 
English elementary school ; he felt, or at least, began to 
experience, that feeling so characterestic of men of his 
new profession, the feelings of a pedagogue. 

As he commenced in the month of February, (1810,) 
and the weather moderating with the increased length ot 
the days, his school increased proporiionally m number, 
so that before the close of Summer, he numbered nearly 
one hundred scholars. But as Winter approached, the 
number of scholars began to diminish, owing to the cir- 
cumstance of many of ihem living at a distance from the 
school. Besides the rent of the school-house was high, 
and the income of the school did not sufficiently compen- 
sate for the labor of teaching. 

This induced the Author to request an old school-mate 
of his, now grown rich, and, consequently, influential, to 
procure to be raised for him from among his numerous and 
highly respectable friends and acquaintances, "a select 
scTiool," to be located lower down in the City. This his 
interest and recommendation soon procured for the Au- 
thor; and he opened his school in the buildnig that then 
occupied the site of the present Quaker Meetmg-House 
in Rose-street, with about one hundred scholars of both 
sexes. The number of scholars soon increased to two 
hundred and ten; and the Author might have realized the 
height of his wishes both in celebrity as a teacher, and 
in the pay he received for his services ; but ihe cupid- 
ity of a few of his self-created trustees, entirely defeated 
his exertions, and prostrated for ever the growing useful- 
ness of the " Franklin Juvenile vSchool," in Rose-street ; 
so that when the Author visited New-York during the 
War, he found his old school-room entirely deserted. 

There silence and solitude reign'd, 
The Thirteen their object had gain'd. 

* Clerk of Alms House or Hospital. 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 157 

They had changed an American plan for an EngHsh 
one, under the Lancasterian mode of leaching. 

In the month of May, 1812, the Author removed with 
his family to Herkimer, to talce the charge of the Acade- 
my in that place. The village afforded him rising of a 
hundred scholars, at one dollar and fifiy cents each, per 
quarter. But the War breaking out, the children v\rere 
withheld, and the school was broken up. 

The Author represented by letter, his case, to his Ex- 
cellency, the Governor ; and he invited him to come to 
Albany in the ensuing k^pring, and to enter into his em- 
ploy as one of his clerks. Accordingly, in the month of 
June, 1813, the Author removed with his family to Al- 
ban)'-, became Clerk to his Excellency, and continued in 
his service until the peace in 1815; when he returned 
with his family to New-York, after an absence of nearly 
three years. 



The Author becomes Deputy Clerk of the Court of Sessions. Goef 
into a Counting House. Is appointed Clerk to the Commissioners of 
the Ahns House. Is appointed Assistant Book-keeper of the United 
States Branch Bank. VV rites for Common Council. Goes again into a 
Counting House ; shortly after leaving which, he loses his wife, and 
consequently becomes a widower. 

Not long after his return from Albany, the Author was 
engaged by Colonel Robert Macomb, one of Governor 
Tompkins' aids, and his old schoolmate, and brother to 
the present Commander-in-Chief of the United States 
Army, Major General Alexander Macomb, as his Depu- 
ty in the Court of Sessions ; and continued with him 
eight months, when he left him ; the Colonel choosing to 
perform the whole of the duties of the office himself. 

From this employ the Author went into the Counting 
House of Messrs. Dimlap and Grant, importing mer- 
chants in Greenwich-street, to post their Journal. 

Mr. Dunlap having been in Europe during the War^ 
all the business of the firm devolved on Mr. Grant, an(J 



158 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

so the Journal remained unposted ; to perform which 
operation he employed the Author for four months. 

Having finished this engagement, the Author applied 
for and obtained the appointment of clerk to the Commis- 
sioners of the Alms House, at a salary of $500 per annum. 
They had their office, at this time, in that part of the old 
Alms House now occupied by the United States District 
Court. 

After continuing with the Commissioners about six 
jnonths, the Author obtained through the recommenda- 
tion of his old and firm friend, his Excellency, D. D. 
Tompkins, then Vice President of the United States, 
the appointment of an assistant book-keeper in the Uni- 
ted States Branch Bank, at a salary of $1000 per annum. 
In this situation the Author remained during the years 
1817, 18, 19, and part of 20, when a retrenchment of ex- 
penditure by a reduction of the number of officers in the 
Mother Bank and its different branches took place ; and 
the Author was among the number of the dismissed. 

The cause that induced the necessity of this turning 
out of officers, without alleging any crime to their charge, 
was the poverty of the Institution — from its inabihty to 
discount the paper which had been offered. 

The next employment the Author obtained, according 
to the best of his recollection, was the writing up the min- 
utes of the Common Council, for General Jacob Morton, 
at that time Clerk of the Board. This duty he continued 
to perform for about one year, when he quitted, and went 
into the Counting House of Mr. George Suckley, im- 
porter of small cutlery from Sheffield. 

Mr. S. kept his office in his own store, in Pine-Street, 
next door to the corner of William-Street, opposite the 
Bank Coffi^e-House, then kept by William Niblo. 

The Author continued with Mr. Suckley about eigh- 
teen months, when, in consequence of his relinquishing 
business, the Author quitted his employ. 

In the following year, on the 23d day of November, 
182.3, the wife of the Author departed this hfe, aged 48 
years, after having kept hoivse together for the space of 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 159 

Iwenty-three years and three months, leaving the Author 
a widower with six children. 

The Author feels satisfied that his companion died in 
the Faith of the Gospel; and he continues to live in the 
expectation that when the days of his pilgrimage are end- 
ed, and he is called to take the " parting hand with the 
things of time and sense," he shall go to meet her ran- 
somed disembodied spirit in the fair climes of bliss and 
glory above; and with her enjoy those "eternal good 
things which are laid up in store for all the finally faith- 
ful, perserveringfollowers of the Lamb, while eternal ages 
cease not to roll their everlastinc; rounds." 



Tl'e Author embarks a second time on the sea of Matrimony. His dif- 
ferent employments as a Clerk, ttc., during a lapse of si.^teen years; 
which brings him to the period promised in the title page of his Spe- 
cimens, and to the conclusion of the brief history of his life. 

Metaphorically, or figuratively speaking. Matrimony 
is a sea ; and though like the natural sea it abounds witli 
dangers not only hidden, but also, apparent, yet thou- 
sands adventure on it daily, fearless of the consequences 
that may attend the experiment. 

And the Author, among the rest, must needs make a 
second trial of this curse or blessing of our natural lives. 
And he is happy to inform his readers that he has no 
cause for regrei in the choice, which, under Providence, 
he has been induced to make. 

About fifteen months of widowhood, having rolled over 
the Author's head — he, having quilted the employment of 
the son-in-law of his Excellency, the Vice President, en- 
tered into that of his Honor, the late Mayor, Aaron Clark. 
A few months afterwards, he was signing Lottery Tick- 
ets for Messrs. Yates and McLityre, in Broadway. 
His next remove was into the Registers Oflice, as a su- 
pernumerary copyist, under James W. Lent, Esq. Re- 
gister in and for the City and County of New-York, &c. 
About six months thereafter, the business of the Office 



160 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 

falling off considerabl}^ the Author with several other su- 
pernumeraries, received his dismission. His next place 
of employment was in the Office of the Court of Com- 
mon Pleas, under Nicholas Dean, Esq., at that time Clerk 
of said Court. Here he continued eleven months, and 
then went into the Assistant Register of Chancery's Of- 
fice, as a Clerk under John L Lawrence, Esq. In this 
employ he remained about six months. 

During the fourteen years that had elapsed, from the 
return of the A uthor from Albany, he had invariably re- 
sided in the City of New-York ; but having received a 
temporary appointment as Cleik of the Public Store at 
Brooklyn, he removed thither in the month of June, 
1829, and there continued until the expiration of the 
Quarantine on shipping, in ihe month of November, in that 
year. 

Removing to New-York, the Author, feeling a dispo- 
sition for travelling, made a visit to his son-in-law, then re- 
siding at Mayville, in Chatauquc County, near the Cha- 
tauque Lake, about sixty miles above Buffalo. In the 
Spring of 1830, he returned to New-York, and went in- 
to the office of Elijah T. Pinckney, Esq., in Tr3'on-Row, 
and continued with him as his Clerk for about two years. 
The Summer of the year 1832, the year of tlie Chol- 
era, found the Author again employed in the Office of the 
Court of Common Pleas. Abraham Asten, Esq. being 
the then Clerk of that Court. From the books of the xls- 
sessors of the different Wards, the Author made out the 
Ballots for the Grand and Petty Jurys of the city and coun- 
ty of New York, for that year, and returned to his former 
employ with E. T. P., Esq. But he having in the mean 
time taken students into his office, advised the Author to 
turn Money Collector, which business, with very little 
variation, he has pursued until the present time. 

Here the Author dates the commencement of his busi- 
ness acquaintance with James R. and William Whiting, 
Esqrs., by whom he has been employed (with the excep- 
tion of five months, as Clerk of the Long Island Fire In- 
surance Co., and Messenger and General Clerk in the 



THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 16 A 

Brooklyn Bank, eleven months, and part of last winter 
as out-door Visiter for the Commissioners of the Alms 
House), eitlicr as a copyist, collector, or out-door Clerk, 
and in their office he continues to remain, i. e. up to the 
21st of December, 1840. * 

And, now, in conclusion, the Author wishes the Read- 
er the enjoyment of both physical and moral health ; and 
for himself he assures him, that though poor and despis- 
ed in this life, he hopes, ere long, if faithful to the gi'aco 
given him, to be rich and honorable in the life to come. 

He would endeavor to imitate the Apostle Paul, in his 
resignation to the will of Providence, in regard to his 
temporal estate, by being "therewith content;" and 
cheerfully obey the direction of the Poet, who advises, 

" With patient mind thy com-se of duty run, 
God nothing does, nor suffers to be done, 
But thou wouldst do the same, if thou couldst see 
The end of all events, as well as He." 



NOTES 

CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY 

ON 

THE SPECI3IENS. 



Among the many names that have presented themselves, none ap- 
peared to me to be more appropriate than the one I have chosen as the 
title of my little volume of Poems. 

" Specimens," are defined to be samples, or some parts of a com- 
modity given as a pattern, to show its quality or condition." 

Nowf the " parts" are the Selections I have made from my own Com- 
positions, on various subjects, at different times ; at which I have labored 
occasionally, for nearly half a century. Such pieces as I thought it 
not proper to offer to the public, I have committed to the flames. 

What was their comparative merit therefore, cannot now be determin- 
ed. 

As none of my ancestors, to my knowledge, have given themselves 
the trouble to favor the world with an account of their lives ; perhaps, 
it was specially reserved for me to perform this office, if not on my own 
account, at least for the satisfaction of my posterity. 

In the Notes, I have thought it would not prove so satisfactory to con- 
fine myself merely to critical and explanatory remarks, as to avail m)'- 
self of the benefit of the extracts I have made from many very valuable 
books, which from time to time have fallen into my hands. It will ea- 
sily be perceived that my intention has been to accompany each piece 
or poem with a correspondent note — and this labor I have performed, 
except in a few instances, when 1 supposed it might not be necessarily 
required. 

Should any of my readers consider son)e of my notes too lengthy, I 
can only say in extenuation of such an oversight, that it was occasioned 
by a sincere desire, rather to promote their interests than my own grati- 
fication. 

With this view of the subject I respectfully solicit for the notes, as 
well as the poems, a candid, attentive, and patient peru.sal ; while on 
my part, instead of anticipating and combating objections that may 
never be urged ; 1 will proceed to prosecute to a conclusion, ihe task I 
have assigned myself; as a part of my original plan, in framing the "Spe- 
cimens," and notes to the same. 

And, first, as to my Frontispiece, or Title-page, I deem it is sufficient- 
ly explanatory of itself — but of the " Quantum meruit" or second fore- 



164 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

frout, such as now obtains in the entries of 'modern buildings. I wonld 
observe that I composed it in compliance with the suggestion of a friend, 
to accompany the pioposals which I presented for subscribers at the 
New-York City Library, and the Brooklyn Lyceum. 

But as I received not a solitary subscriber from either of those Institu- 
tions, I have by way of literary retaliation, transferred it to the Speci- 
meu.s, there to be its own interpreter, and to rate no liigher than itself 
it rates — viz. as " Q,uantura meruit." 

With regard to my Froem or Preface, I would merely observe, that I 
made it in verse, in the hope that it might share a better fate than many 
prefaces that appear in prose, however splendidly or imposingly tliey 
may have beeu written. So here commences the Notes on the several 
poems and pieces contained in the Specimens; and the first that claims 
attention is: 

"Echo, if right I understand," Sfc. — Page 19. 

For a dissertation on the origin, &c. of Poetry the Reader is request- 
ed to consult the Lectures of the Rev. Hugh Blair, D. D. See also, 
Note on Elegy, page 64. 

" Passions are those," 5{c. — Page 19. 

Among Humanists (persons skilled in human learning) "passions 
are the affections of the mind, as Love, Hatred," and also, strong and 
predcminant appetites and aversions — Gruss^ moral philosophy. 

" An Apothegm," ^*c.— Page 20. 

" A short pretty and instructive sentence, chiefly of a grave and emi- 
nent person." The subjectis here mercantilly considered, and shows that 
the debt contracted to the constitution by excess or intemperance in 
youth, must be paid with interest by suffering in after age. 

Youth are hereby, also, instructed not to despise this caution of Holy 
Writ, " using this world as not abusing it." 

" Imagination claims," SfC. — Page 20. 

I cannot now distinctly recollect from whence I received the idea con- 
tained in this little "jeiix d'csprit ;" but I ih'wk it was from a Newspaper. 
" Imagination is the faculty by which we, as it were, picture corporeal 
substances in the mind, as if we saw them actually with the eyes; or an 
application of the mind to the phan'asma or image, or some corporeal 
thing impressed in the brain, conceit, fancy, thought." " Fancy" is al- 
so defined to be " Imagination." Perhaps no one but a Poet would at- 
tempt any discrimination between them ; as the Greek word phantasia, 
is translated into Latin by, or rather is the satKe word, phantasia, which 
in Englisii, is called Fancy or Imagination. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 165 

" While Brutus' bust," Sfc. — Page 20. 

" Dum BriUi effigiem," &c. The translations were attempted in con- 
sequence of a public request from the publishers of the Youth's Maga- 
zine, or Evangehcal Miscellany, No. 9, for September 1817. The his- 
tory is simply this ; Michael Angelo, the celebrated Sculptor, while ex- 
ecuting a bust of Brutus, the friend and assassin of Julius Ctcsar, hap- 
pening to think of his crime, refused to finish it — it however found its 
way in its imperfect state into the Gallery of the Grand Duke of Tus- 
cany, where the above inscription was placed under it by sonic unknown 
hand. 

" Though addition is one thing," Sfc. — Page 21. 

This was an anecdote related by my Uncle — more than half a century 
Bgo ; and, being vividly impressed on my mind, I thought I would pre- 
serve it in verse. It is a caution against the indecent practice of listen- 
ing to conversation evidently intended to be private and contidential. 

Know when your ears to use, and when your eye.s; 
This rightly doing there your safety lies. 

" ' Tis long experience shoics," Sfc. — Page 22. 

More than half a century ago, the word in the title of this piece was 
spelled inditferently, either Dependence, or Dependauce — and signified 
a staying, resting, or relying upon ; as also a relation or subjection. 

Though this piece was written more than forty years since, I still con- 
sider the sentiment contained in it to be correct, and have therefore re- 
tained it as a part of my Specimens. Certain it is, that " variety of con- 
ditions renders men necessary to each other." — Saurin. 

" Out on tlte world," S^c. — Page 23. 

By the world I mean the people of the world. Mankind arc naturally 
selfish; observation and experience abundantly verify this assertion, 
viz. that " selfishness is the idolatry of the world ; and that self is tho 
idol." 

" ' Tis a shocking affair," Is^c. — Page 23. 

" I have lived," said Dr. E. D. Clark, " to know that the great secret 
of human happiness is this— Never suffer your energies to stagnate." 

" DonH set the tune," Sfc. — Page 23. 

According to the old adage, "Prayer brings down the first, and praise 
the second blessing." The latter, is therefore, too important a part of 
Divine worship to be committed to unskilful persons. The time or air 
should also be adapted to the words. Other advice might be given on 
the subject; but it would not be heeded, so long as the singing in the 



166 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

Churches is conducted on the present supposed improved plan. The 
Psahus and Hymns, singing Department, requires to be reformed be- 
fore congregations can cordiallyconforrato the Apostle's direction, "sing 
with the spirit, and the understanding also," for who can sing tunes he 
does not understand ? 

" And shall the Justice," cS'c— Page 24. 

This piece was written in 1815, when I was Deputy Clerk of the 
Court of Sessions. Those were the impressions I tlien entertained of 
criminal law, and yet a certain celebrated Lawyer assured me I was " a 
liundrcd years behind the spirit of the age," when I remonstrated against 
the laxity that obtained in a certain criminal department, over which I 
thought he might have exercised a more salutary control. Who then 
that has lived half a century in this fluctuating world of New-York, may 
not on retrospection, exclaim with Maro of old — Tempora mutantnr, 
&c. "The times are changed," &c. — Virgil. 

Twenty -five years ago, bail was taken only for cases of misdemeanors. 

" From thebleak North," Sfc.— Fage 24. 

The birth-place of my first wife was Ballycastle County, Antrim — 
in the North, or Scottish pari of Ireland •, near the Giant's Causeway. 
She died on the 23d day of November, 1S23, a}tatis 49. 

"Alice, I linger here," S(c. — Page 25. 

I frequently stop at the spot where rest the mortal remains of my former 
companion, and the mother of my children, and anticipate the day when 
I shall be permitted to enjoy her society in another and a better state of 
existence. She was interred in the !\I. E. burying-ground, corner of 
First-street and Second Avenue. 

" Though some by faces," »S'c. — Page 26. 

This little piece ranks among the earliest of my poetical production.", 
and is perhaps, forty-two years of age. I have not attempted to alter it 
since its production; and I think I had it published in a weekly paper, 
called the Museum, under the signature of" Alphonso." 

" If fio'^i one vice," Sfc. — Page 26. 

I cannot recollect from whence I drew the idea contained in these 
lines ; yet few as they are, they furnish ample matter for reflection, and 
aff'ord sufllcient inducement to give the truth they evidently intend to in- 
culcate a fair and impartial trial. " Conscience," says the Rev. and very 
learned Mr. Saurin, "is, if I may venture to speak so, an operation of 
the soul, consisting of volition and intelligence." Conscience is intelli- 
gence, judgment, considering an object as just or unjust; and con- 
science is volition inclining us to make the object in contemplation, an 
object of our love or haired, of our desires or fears." 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 167 

" Wanted employment," Sfc. — Page 26. 
" A fig for Rome, a fig for Greece, a London rocking give your piece." 

I once presented this piece to tlie proprietor of the Mirror ; but he 
gave me to understand that he only dealt m foreign Poetical productions 
— and so I never offered it to any other person for publication. 

" Let things go " Ifc. — Page 27. 

I do not remember, precisely, in what manner I obtained this motto ; 
but I think it was from the pannel, or side of a coach. The sentiment 
or resolution it contains, is certainly correct. 

" Oh, happiness," S{c. — Page 27. 

This is a very early production, but whether before my first marriage, 
which was in 1800, or just after it, I cannot remember. It is an easy 
affair to preserve dates ; many people, however, neglect it, and I have 
been among the number. 

These were my thoughts, (" cursory," I have styled them,) long ago, 
on the subject of Wedlock — defined by the Church to be Conjugium 
.\ Conjungendo, i. e., " a joining together ; because a lawful woman is 
bound with her husband, as it were, in one common yoke." 

But if any person desire to be instructed in the duties which Hus- 
bands and Wives owe to each otlier, and to their families, let them con- 
sult the best of books the Bible — see Paul to the Colossians, chapter iii, 
and Peter's first Epistle, chapter iii. 

" Do you knoio neiglihour .John," Sfc. — Page 28. 

My old and much esteemed friend, Charles Gilman, who was a Butch- 
er, told me a certain man asked him what business he followed for u 
living? and he answered him that " he got /«'■; living by shedding inno 
cent blood." He was a valuable member of the Methodist Episcopal 
connection in New-York, and I believe, is still living; if so, he is a very 
aged man. 

" 'TJs not a thousand miles," ffc. — Page 28. 

This is among my first compositions. — The narration, I believe is true. 
I heard it as it dropped froui the lips of the identical Hero of the piece, 
John Beckley, Esq., of Virginia; who was afterwards Clerk of the 
House of Representatives in Congress. He narrated it at the dinner 
table of my Uncle, and when he next visited New-York, I handed him 
the piece, and he assured nie it was correct. It shows that Divines as 
well as other people niay souietimes be surprised intoan infraction of that 
requirement in Holy Writ, which teaches us " to do justly." Our min- 
ister, however, is highly to be conunended for the magnanimous manner 
in which he repaid his Counsel for his salutary rebuke. But if any one 
is disposed to be captious on the subject ; let him be admonished by the 
old adage : " Errare est humanum," &c. 



168 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

It is a fact, believe it sir, 
Humanity is prone to err. — Kel. 

*' Lest some should think," Sfc. — Page 33. 

I have not time to say much oa this attempt ; let it go for what it is 
worth ; until the real name of Junius is satisfactorily discovered. 

" Swift docs thchlood," Sfc. — Page 33. 

In this Sonnet, or small Poem, it appears to have been my design to 
treat the subject by way of contrast ; rather than to enter into an elabor- 
ate argument, to establish what tlic experience of those who are advan- 
ced in years, has from time immemorial, abundantly proved to be true. 
" Youth is tender age — the state and condition of young people, or their 
persons ; also, a young man, a lad, a youngster is an airy brisk young 
man — a raw or inexperienced youtii — a novice." And such subjects 
might receive much valuable instruction for the government of their con- 
duct in future life, by conversing with, and listening attentively to tlie 
conversation " of men sedate." 

But it would seem that no teacher can excel experience. — The old 
adage is " csperioitia docct," " experience teaches.'' Much, however, 
may be effected by parents, in giving the minds of their children a pro- 
per direction, by wholesome precepts, and an appropriate example. 

One way o'er all the rest prevrils. 
Example moves where precept fails. — Ke!. 

And that great Poet, Mr. Pope, says: — 

"All youth, at first set right, with ease go on. 
And each new task is with new pleasure done; 
But if neglected till they grow in years, 

And each fond mother her dear darling spares. 
Errors become habitual, and you'll find, 
'Tis then hard labour to reform the mind."' 

.\nd the best of books directs — "Train up a child in the way he should 
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.'' — Solomo7i. 

" If you your readers'' minds," Sfc. — Page 83. 

This is the direction given to Authors by the celebrated Latin Poet, 
and eminent critic Ciuintus Horatius Flaccus, who flourished in the reign 
of Augustus Cajsar. IIow well it has been attended to by the Author 
of the Specimens, is left to the reader to determine. 

" Was founded" ^A. D.] SfC. — Page 34. 

I can assure the proprietors of this truly respectable, and I think I 
may say, highly useful establishment, the beginning of which I recol- 
lect for more than Haifa century "gone by," that the.se lines are sincere* 



NOTES ON THE SPECLMENS. 169 

\y intended to express my satisfaction at its increasing celebrity and 
prosperity. The "American Museum," in Broad-street, near Pearl, 
in 1790, compared to the American Museum in 1831, in Broad- 
way, opposite St. Paul's Church, was a dwarf compared to a giant. 
" Creseat eundo." 

" Thercis a rash," ffc. — Page 34. 

The event which occasioned this irregular production transpired, I 
think, in the year 1818. Tiie subjectof the reflections contained in the 
piece, a young man, was a Clerk in the sam; Bank with the Author. 
He had absented himself for about a fortnight from his post, when we 
were surprised by receiving an invitation to attend his funeral. He hafl, 
as it is phrased, " blown out his brains" with a pistol. What were his 
real motives for the commission of this rash and fatal act, for more than 
one was conjectured — we never could accurately ascertain. The most 
plausible information that could be obtained, was, that the young lady 
whom he wished to make his wife, had, by the advice of her Physician, 
declined accepting his proposal, on the ground of her being consumptive. 
It was said that he left a lettcir on the bed, on which he perpetrated his 
own murder — doubtless, assigning the reason for his conduct; and that 
a connexion of hers by uiarriage, a Doctor, discovered the letter where 
he had left it lying; and that he having perused its contents, could 
never be induced either by persuasion or threats to disclose them, even 
to his parents. 

He was one of those unyielding spirits, who having once formed a 
resolution, could not be dissuaded from executing it, though death might 
be the inevitable consequence. His name, though the fact at the time 
was of public notoriety, is, out of respect for his family, suppressed. — 
The piece is not aftectedly irregular ; it was composed in the street, 
while going to aud returning fiom the Bank. The impression made 
on my mind by the fearful exit he made from time to eternity, induced 
reflections which I felt constrained to utter, as well for my own admoni- 
tion, as for that of his sorrowing relatives and friends — and for all to 
whom this account of his death might come. I say not hosv true it may 
be, yet there is an old saying to this effect, " Quern Deus vuit perdere, 
prius dementat." The sense of which in our language, may possibly be. 

When to destruction be is once consigned, 
That man becomes a reprobate of mind! — KcL 

" Canst tell tlie reason" Sfc. — Page 35. 

It is deleterious to both soul and body, to stimulate excessively, 
either with solids or fluids — The advice is, " using this world as not 
abusing it?" — He, therefore, who disregards it, must expect to experi- 
ence the consequences which such disregard must infallibly produce, 



170 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" J suppose you need not," Sfc. — Page 36. 

This piece was the first, or among the very first of my poetical essays 
— as the old adage has it, " Necessity is the motiier of invention," so 
being directed to bring in a composition on Saturday morning, I hand- 
ed in for my composition this, piece headed, " What you please." It 
was examined by the professors, vvlio returned it with corrections, and 
I was required, in future, to present them a composition in Prose. 
What a flattering prospect to encourage me to repeat my first attempt 
at Poetry ! Was it not sufficient to cause me to distrust my poetical 
capabihty in limine, and to exclaim in despair, " The cruel Muses do 
disown you, and Phcebus says he ne'er has known you !" or indignantly 
retort — 

*' Humble Prose 

Is fit for those 

Who to precision can't confine, 

Their ideas to a single line.'' — Kel. 

But I was obliged to make, as it is said, "a virtue of necessity," — i. 
e., to comply or quit the Institution, " nulla lex habet necessitas, " ne- 
cessity has no law." 

" ir/ien lofty tfiemes j^rcsent themselves." — Page 3G. 

W'hat was the origin of Speculative Masonry, or the Society of Free 
and accepted Masons — I cannot tell. It is observed of them that they 
are a " very ancient society, or body of men, considerable both for num- 
ber and character over all Europe." I joined myself to Trinity Lodge, 
No. 10, in the year 179'J. Dut after joining the Methodist Episcopal 
Church in John-street, about three ye;irs subsequently, I discontinued 
my visits to the Lodge, believing that if I really was a " Free Mason," 
I was just as free to go as I was to stay — or else in what would my free- 
dom consist ? 

My present thoughts respecting Masonry, when placed in apposition 
with Religion, are candidly expressed in the Reflection " annexed to the 
Ode, headed Reflection. 

Benevolence, O glorious name ! 

From Heaven to Earth direct she cnme, 

To save our lost and fallen race; 
Impartial Maid — fam'd Masonry! 
Accessible to each, and free 

As is Heaven s all abounding grace. 

But should Heaven's grace too feeble prove, 
Our lost "and fallen race to move, 

Around this solid hall; 
Theirneighbors as themselves" to love, 
Then disappointed from above, 

On thee, O Masonry we'll call. — Kel. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 171 

" Tlie Mail-man left," tfcc— Page 37. 

My Uncle had a clerk in his employ by the name of Christian Hoff- 
man, and it was from him I had the story of " The Headless Spectre.'^ 
I think he said he had it from General Malcolm, who at that time lived 
and kept his store of Sliip Chandlery, at the corner of Beekman Slip 
and Water-street — now called Fulton-street and Water-street, and oc- 
cupied as a Boarding House, by Mr. Jackson. The Mail-carrier, it ap- 
pears, was a Scotsman, and so was the General. The former was in the 
habit of calling occasionally on the General, and putting up at his house 
for the night. — On one particular night he called as usual, to " spend 
the night" with his friend and countryman ; but the General having com- 
pany that night, requested him to procure some other lodgings. He, 
however, previously to taking his leave, related his adventure on the 
road to the General, who, after endeavouring to soothe his mind, ad- 
vised him to go to bed and sleep it off. 

He retired to a Boarding House for the night, and in the morning, 
while coming down the stairs his foot slipped, he fell and broke his neck. 

Though I never saw any apparition myself, I am not prepared to say 
that it could not be the case with others. 

Mortals prepare, a judgment day, 

Awaits us one and all ; 
Then let us when death s summons comes. 

Be ready at his call. — Kel. 

" Kind sirs I greet you," Sfc, — Page 41. 

I find on referring to my Journal the following note — " To S. Wood- 
worth iSc Co., No. 60 V'esey-street, who solicited aid in said Poem, and 
requested that the Poetry should be chaste, Albany, 14th November, 
1813. It was during the last war with Great Britain, as will be per- 
ceived by the date. 

I was at that time Recording Clerk to his Excellency, Governor Dan- 
iel D. Tompkins, at Albany, and observing the Advertisement of S. W. 
& Co., I thought I would contribute something towards the furtherance 
of what I considered not only a novel, but a very laudable undertaking. 
The piece, however, was never forwarded, neither do I recollect that 
" Ncic-Yorlc," a Poem, was ever published. I read this piece to Mr. W. 
and he said he would have put it into his piece, if he had succeeded in 
publishing his " New-York," a Poem. 

" Mlien rogues fall out," Sfc. — Page 43. 

This is an old, and doubtless a true saying ; for few rogues can with- 
stand the inducement of a pardon held out to them on condition of their 
making a sincere confession, and a true disclosure of such facts as are 
sought for by the Law. Other causes may also operate to produce a 
like effect. 



172 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

* " The Law forces," Sfc. — Page 43. 

This is from Noyes' Law maxims. A lawyer told me he tlicughx 
these maxims might be advantageously versified. 

"Malignant, cruel, fierce," SfC. — Page 43; 

Discord 18 disagreement, strife, variance. Derived from dis, asnndcr 
— and cor, the heart. 

" All leaser must," S^c. — Page 43. 

This distich admonishes people to examine things carefully, that they 
may not give a preference wrongfully to any. 

" Whencecame the custom," ^•^. — Page 44. 

The practice now-a-days is to direct the servant to ask the person who 
knocks at the door to give his name. If he refuses by saying the Gent. 
or Lady of the house does not know his name — the servant, though he 
may pretend to inquire — answers of courBe, " not at home." Ho is sus- 
pected for a dun, or an officer. 

" Havn't you heard folks saij,^^ Sfc. — Page 44. 

I have an indistinct recollection of this anecdote, yet I think it was to 
this effect. While a certain lawyer was pleading before the court, the 
Judge observed to him that there was no general rule withoutan excep- 
tion — ihe lawyer replied he could name one. The Judge requested 
him to do so. Why, said he, the gamma (the third letter of the Greek 
alphabet) is invariably pronounced hard. 

" There let it inperpetual," ifc. — Page 45. 

I think I have somewhere read of two persons, consummating their 
Ceconciiiation by turning the hollow of their hands joined together by 
their fingers, over a hole in the ground, and holding. them in thatpositioo 
until the hole was filled up with earth. 

" So small is the containing," Sfc. — Page 45. 

From whence I gleaned the idea contained in this distich, I am una- 
ble to tell. 

" Body, icith otliers," &fc. — Page 45. 
See let Corinthians, 44th verse ef ]5th chapter. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 173 

" Our life is a vapour," Sfc. — Page 45. 

Faith — among Divines — a principal Christian virtue. An assent of the 
mind to all things delivered in the Holy Scriptures, as the testimony of 
Almighty God. In Greek, pistis, a persuasion. 

" Assist Melpomene," 8fc. — Page 46. 

This friend died, I think, of the yellow fever of '98. — We were for 
many previous years inseparable companions. We went to church to- 
gether on the Lord's day, and on week evenings to French school, his 
time in the day being devoted to the duties of the Counting House, 
while mine was employed in prosecuting my studies, both at home and 
at College. This piece was composed shortly after his decease, per- 
haps 45 years siuce.^ I have styled it an Elegy — i. e. a mournful poem ; 
a funeral song. 

My classmate, the Rev. John Blair Linn, in his book entitled " Mis- 
cellaneous Works, prose and poetical," printed by Thomas Greeulcaf 
in 1795, gives a long dissertation, (from the one hundredth to the one 
hundred and forty seventh page inclusive) on Poetry, which he calls the 
language " of passion and fajicy." — Of Elegiac poetry he observes — 
" perhaps there is no species of poetry of which the mind is more sus- 
ceptible than Elegy. There is none perhaps which meets with a more 
agreeable reception from all classes of men. Its objects are to excite 
the softer passions, to represent the distress of virtue, and the many 
misfortunes to which huniau nature is liable." 

" Full oft lie cross'd,"&c. — Page 47. 

I do not recollect ever having seen this sea Captain, but his brother 
was a schoolmate of mine. I wrote this epitaph for the Captain's 
widow. 

" JVe all must to," Sfc. — Page 47. 

I wrote this epitaph for the widow of an old acquaintance. As he 
gave no evidence of his having received the pardon of his sins, previous- 
ly to his decease, I had to frame the epitaph accordingly. 

" Long her patient spirit," S(c.— Page 47. 

My book of Poems does not furnish me with the means of ascertainr 
ing who the lady was, for whom I composed this epitaph. 

Greedij Death," Sfc— Page 48. 

I am equally at a loss to determine the person I had in riew^ in con^ 
posing this epitaph. 



174 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENfcr. 

" T7jws dearest, we," Sfc. — Page 48. 
In this epitaph I was meditating on the decease of my former wife. 

" Fortune alike with other," ^c. — Page 48. 

" Industry is Fortune's right hand — Frugality her left'" — I thought this 
was a quotation from the " Elegant Extracts" — but on consulting my 
book of extracts, I could not find it there. 

" In hooks both sacred," Sfc. — Page 49. 

This Essay was written for some young men, who belonged to a re- 
ligions society in Albany, during the late War with Great Britain. 
What use was made of it, I never was able to learn. 

" Each individual freehj," S^c. — Page 50. 

I think I composed this piece about 11 or ]2 years ago ; bnt my re- 
collection cannot now supply me with the necessary particulars which 
induced the composition. In order to ascertain these particulars, I call- 
ed on my old friend Mr. Jacob P. Roome. late Superintendent of Re- 
pairs, now residing in 21st street, hut his memory failed him as well 
as my own. He merely recollected that the firemen had a disturb- 
ance among themselves in the Bowery, about the time above alluded to 
— and re.'erred me to another source for information. 1 am certain that 
I derived the facts stated in the piece from a newspaper, but I cannot 
now tell its name. The numbers refer to the different Aldermen and 
their Wards. 

" Fanny is the girl," 5fc. — Page 53. 

This was a complimentary sonnet to my present v.'ife, while paying 
my addresses to her, more than forty years ago. As she made no ob- 
jections to my inserting the piece in my Specimens, I also added 
•' My Second Courtship of wy -present wife " 

This piece isexplanatoy of the leason why our courtship was broken 
off— and how it came at length to terniinate in our marriage. It is a 
practical comment on the old adage, which instructs us that " early at- 
tachments are the strongest." 

" Takes this method to show," Sfc. — Page 55. 

This piece is not an original composition of mine. The ideas were 
Bupplied from an Advertisement tliat appeared, some forty odd years 
ago, in a paper called the •' Morning Chronicle " printed in Pine-street, 
New- York. This Advertisement I versified to please a friend who had 
an interest in the paper. It afterwards appeared in a book of selection.'? 
published by a man who styled himself the " Emperor of the Barbers,'* 
snd who I was informed afterwards cut his throat in the City of Albany. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 175 

If puffing to fiiy.zcui-s belongs, 
Who'd envy them their puffing songs? 
But scout all lying to a faction. 
And "scorn with us,' a meaner action. 

No liar can, whate'er his trade, 
A li«r's punishment evade ; ^ 

The which he 11 find, if right he looks, 
Recorded in the ''best of books." — Kel. 

" One night 1 dreamed," iV-— Page 56. 

This piece, or "New Year's address," was composed expressly for 
the news carrier of the " Courier and Enquirer," and contains accord- 
ing to direction, given in that paper, exactly two hundred lines. It was 
presented, and rejected. Becoming again my property, I, like some 
other Authors, by inserting it in my " Specimens," appeal from the judg- 
ment of the Editors of the Courier and Enquirer to the candour of the 
public. Though I am satisfied ofthe correctness of the old adage, "de 
gustibus non &.c." there is no disputing tastes, yet I am wiilii-g to abide 
my appeal, with this deterniination, however, never to write another 
New Year's address for any other newspaper, either in this City, or in 
any other part ofthe World. I wrote one for a religious newspaper in 
this City, and though it was rejected, the Carrier, under pretence of hav- 
ing mislaid it, never liad the manners to return it to its legitimate owner, 
consequently he prevented me from obliging the public by its insertion 
in the Specimens. 

" Say what is fate," Sfc. — Page G2. 

It is but recently that I undertook to peruse the two volumes of ser- 
mons by the Rev. Timothy Dwight, late President of Yale Collegc'^pub- 
lished at New Haven, in 1828. I always entertained a partiality for the 
Doctor. I had not only, more than hali'a century ago, read his " Con- 
quest of Canaan," an Epic Poem, of most admirable structure, and ex- 
quisite finish — but I had enjoyed tlie privilege of hearing him read his 
oicn sermons in the Presbyterian Church, (Dr. Rogers',) in Wall-street. 
My partiality, however, was rather founded on the persuasion that he 
was a good man ; a gemiine Minister of the Gos|)el of onr Lord Jesus 
Christ. And nothing, in the course of my after life, has occurred to in- 
duce me to alter that persuasion. 

His definition of Fate I have given in the sentiment extracted from 
his sermons,) verbified. 1 have turned to Schrevelhts, KiiinpjjtvT}, he has 
translated fatnni, diviuitus dt crefus, decretum — Fate, a divine decree, 
a /inpoj, divido, quasi snnm cuique divisum est. as though each one had 
his own lot or division. Ainsirorth, Fatuni, God's providence or decree, 
— Fate, the order and series of causes, ihe course of nature, destiny or 
fortune, as they call it — calamity, mischief or misfortune. Death, or na- 
tural death — more rarely an untimely death, sometimes a man's fortune 
or circumstances, also an Oracle — idt^m quod effatun). 

Bailey (Fatuin, Lat.) That which must of necessity come to pass — 
God's secret appointment, a perpetual unchangeable disposition of things 
following one upon another. Providence or Decree — also Death. 



170 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

Walker — Fate, Destiny, Event, Predetermined Death. But I suppose 
I might have saved myself this trouble, as it is not improbable the Doc- 
tor might have travelled over the same ground in the three first instan- 
ces, before I was born. 

" The serious observer discerns," ^c. — Page 62^ 

While at Albany in 1813 or '14, comfortably situated with my family 
around me, and in the employment of my old friend and classmate at 
Columbia College, his Excellency, the Governor — i one day observed 
in his paper called the " Portfolio," published in Philadelphia, by Old- 
sc/iool," an advertisement offering $50 for the best written Ode — i. e., 
Seng — for the approaching fourth of July : and I thought I would try to 
write one too— not for Mr. Oldschool, exactly ; but as though it were 
for hitn, not to send to him, but to keep for myself. And well it was I did 
so ; for if I was rightly informed, after selecting from the number of- 
fered, twelve of the best performances, he rejected the whole of them, 
for wiiat reason I do not now recollect. Probably, however, after cul- 
ling out their excellencies, to avoid the payment of the tempting premi- 
um offered in his paper, the Fifty Dollars. 

" Now ichal is this," t^-c. — Page 64. 

After the above explanation — the protocol, a word — which, like Presi- 
dent JetTerson's " occlusion of the Port of New- Orleans," had nearly puz- 
zled our whole nation, mustspeak for itself. 

" Near eigJiteen months," tf-c. — Page 65. 

I have now arrived at the termination of what I perhaps may tonsider 
my moral productions — next follows those of a political character. Situ- 
ated as I was during the last war with England, in the immediate vicini- 
ty of Head Quarters, at Greenbush, and ia the very centre of political 
information, at Albany, it was (next to impossible to refrain from giv- 
ing vent to those indignant feelings I experienced at the time, when con- 
templating the cause which produced, what I considered, a just and ne- 
cessary war on the part of my countrymen ; — Impressment of our Sea- 
men on the High Seas and search of our Vessels. Remonstrance des- 
pised, submission to outrage required, the " ultima ratio regum," held 
up in"tprrorcm" in case of resistance. No marvel that the point 
of Republican forbearance should be passed. But the agony is now 
passed ; blood enough has been shed; much time has flown by since the 
events alluded to have transpired ; the outrage has ceased to be repeat- 
ed ; amicable relations exist, and may continue to exist for years to come 
— from the District of Maine to the " Ultima Tlmlc Bntannantm." Would 
God that " Christian Nations" might cease to "learn war" any more, 
and that the only strife among them might be "who should love the Re- 
deemer most, and who should Ecrve him best." 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 1-77 

" Hear ye, hear all the tcorld," Sfc. — Page 68: 

If Great Britain claims to bo the parent, she should, as a Chistian na- 
tion, remember this injunction of the A|)0stle Paul to the Gentiles} 
" Parents provoke not )'our children to wrath," &c. 

" Tremble ye tyrants,^' Sfc. — Page 68. 

The procession of the hones of the Revolutionary Patriots, for inter- 
ment at Brooklyn, took place in, I think, in the summer or fall of 1808. 
1 could not attend it, as I whs Clerk of the Alms House at that time, and 
either the Superintendent or I was obliged to remain at the House to 
attend to its concerns. The bones were deposited in a small triangular 
piece of ground in Jackson^street, near the Navy Yard. They were 
conveyed to the place of Sepulture in 13 coffins, attended by about 
15,000 persons. The Coffins represented the 13 States, whose names 
appear in front of the building erected over the tomb. Over the gate- 
way is this inscription, " Portal to the Tomb of 11,.5()0 patriot prisoners, 
who died in Dungeons and Prison Ships about the City of New- York, 
during the war of our Revolution.'" 

" Hoic insulUng," ^c. — Page 63. 

The three first verses were composed at Albany, during the late war 
with Great Britain, the last was added a long time afterwards. 

The origin of the term " Yankee" is too well understood in our coun- 
try, to need explanation here. That the epithet, as applied to our na- 
tion by our then enemies, the British, was intended to be reproachful, 
is certain ; it is equally certain that it was malicious, designed to hold us 
up to the gaze of the civilized world, as the aborigines of this country, 
— the Indians — savages. But the reproach which long since has been 
wiped away in blood, ceases at present to give any more offence to an 
American, than does the epithet " John Bull," to an Englishman, who 
knows for a certainty, that if, during the Revolutionary War, " Yankee 
Doodle was a boy," he is a man now. As such, liierefore, he must con- 
tunie to regard and treat him, if he desires to preserve and perpetuata 
the friendly relations which now e.\.ist between the two countries. Ei- 
ther the time has arrived, or is rapidly approaching, when the aphorism 
" no real friendship can subsist between unequals," will no longer apT 
ply to England and America. 

" Tliere lived a Clerk;' ^rc— Page 69^. 

After the peace in 1S15. when I was preparing to quit the employment 
of his Excellency, Governor Tompkins, and to return to Nev^-Ybrk with 



my family, after un absence of nearly three years, I addressed a commu- 
nication to him, requesting from him an introduction to some friend of 
his at New- York, who might give me employment. Said he, " there is 
our old classmate John Ferguson, the Mayor, would he not employ you ? 
I answered, yes, if his Excellency would write him a letter requesting 
him to do so. He replied ho would be i^ New-York the next week, 



178 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

and sj eak to him himself on the subject. He did come to New- York, 
but did not speak to his Honor, ttie Mayor, on the szdjcct ; perhaps he 
forgot it. About this time I must have written this querelous Poem. 
Shortly afterwards, he came to New-York, and advised me to go into 
the employ of one of his aids whom he procured to be appointed Clerk 
of the Court of Sessions: so I became Deputy Clerk of the Sessions, 
in which situation I continued for about eight months. 

" Porter attend,^' Sfc. — Page 72. 

This address was commenced in Albany, but not concluded until re- 
cently ; which gave me an opportunity of thus publicly thanking the Gen- 
eral for his kindness in discharging through Gener<il Macomb, my old 
schoolmate, while Secretary of War, my eldest son from the Army. 

Mr. Pope advises " Keep your peace nine years ;" I am glad I follow- 
ed his advice in this particular. Both the above-named Generals were 
particular favorites oihis Excellency, Governor Tompkins. 

" Oft have I strove," Src— Page 73. 

It was on, or about the fifteenth day of the month of June, 1837, that 
the present District Attorney, James R. Whiting, asked me if 1 would 
have any objection to go to Brunswick in New Jersey, to transact some 
business for him at that place. I informed him I had none, and that 
Brunswick, thereby meaning Brunswick Landing, fiequently so called — 
was my native place. — " Then, said he, you are the very person to ge 
there." Accordingly, I crossed the Hudson to Jersey City, and after a 
travel of thirty-six miles of olden measurement, I arrived, without any 
accident, at the City of New-Brnnswick. Being unwilling to put my 
relations to inconvenience to accommodate me during my stay, I enga- 
ged my board at a Hotel in Albany -street : and as a considerable part of 
the day remained, I concluded to pay a visit to Raritan Landing, by the 
way of the Canal, an invention not even contemplated when I last visit- 
ed my native place. Many a time I had walked from Brunswick to the 
Landing, and from the Landing to Brunswick, as well on the North, 
as on the South side of the river; but never before had I enjoyed the 
pleasure of walking in its water on dry and solid ground. Now this 
pleasure arose, not merely from the simple circumstance of my walking 
on the tow-path of u Canal, Tor that operation I had performed more than 
once between Albany and Utica ; but rather from contemplating the in- 
novation that had been made in my native river. The day was cool for 
the season, and the North wind blowing down the stream was refresh- 
ing, while I examined as I progressed in my journey the well known 
places on either hand — the delight of my juvenile days. Thus pleasantly 
employed, I arrived at length at the bridge which crosses the Raritan and 
brings you to the place called " Raritan Lauding." And here I noticed 
the first alteration that had been made since my last visit to the place. 
The Mill belonging to Mr. Miles Smith had been removed from above 
and now stood below the bridge. Crossing over, I saw the boys near 
its Southern abutment, " all silent angling from the sandy shore." 

But what an alteration was discoverable in the road since I last trav- 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 179 

elled it, to where my Grandfather's house slill stood. From the bridge 
to his house formerly, a distance of about three quarters of the meadow's 
width, not one solitary house, to my recolleciioti. remained. It appear- 
ed to me as if all had been swept away by the freshet which annually 
inundates the meadows in the spring at the breaking np of the river. Ge- 
ographically described, the Village of Raritan Landing resembles in its 
figure the letter T. It commences at the River's bridge, and crosses the 
meadow or the temporary bed of the river, extending to where it is in- 
tersected by the road which runs along the foot of its northern bank, ex- 
tending upwards towards Bound Brook, and downwards towards the 
bridge you cross to enter the city of New Brunswick. 

Directly on the hill above the intersecting road stands the house where 
I was born. I have accounted for this circumstance in the history of 
my life, viz. I have assigned the reason why I was born on the hill, in the 
house owned by my uncle, Capt. James Richmond of New Bruns- 
wick, rather than in the house owned by my father. " The Land- 
ing," on the meadow is now, I believe, entirely destitute of inhabitants, 
and is owned by Mr. Isaac Lawrence of New-York. He has a son-in-law- 
residing in the large stone house on the hill, a Mr. Pool, whose father 
purchased the house from my uncle Richmond, and lie purchased it from 
the late Jlr. Nicholas Low of New-York. I feel no disposition here to 
extol the village of " Raritan Landing," above any other village 1 have 
visited, either in the state of New-York or elsewhere ; on the contrary I 
am sorry to think on its present desolate and forsaken condition. Never- 
theless, I will not disown it on this account, nor will I even assign the 
reason for its decline; it is sntficient (or me to remember that it is my 
native village. In making this acknowledgment I revive many more 
tander recollections than it is my intention to insert in this place as Idesign 
rather to write a " Note" or commentiiry on certain things contained in 
my poem, than a lengthy history of the Village and its ancient inhabitants. 

" But on the hill we claimed one little space." 

I think'this little space comprises half an acre of ground, and that my 
brother William reserved it when he sold the firm after my father's 
death, as our faiij.dy burial place, but I know not whether or no he re- 
served the right of approaching it through the field in which it lays. 
This is the only claim I have on the soil of the state of New-Jer.«ey, 
sufficient to constitute me, if not in Law at least in equity, a freeholder 
in my native state. But as I never intend to urge such a claim, I feel no 
apprehension of having it resi:;ted. 

ilere are deposited the mortal remains of my Grandfather and Grand- 
mother, Father and Mother, I think of my sister Phebe, and three sisters 
and two brothers whom I never saw. Where my aunts Betsy and Mary 
were interred I do not know, nor whether 1 shall rest beside them or not, 
nor does it cause me any tiueasiiiess where my friends shall think proper 
to deposite my clay when I shall have done with " time and time things." 

Below the burying ground to the east there runs a small brook, through 
what I consider a meadow in miniature. The only curio.^ity I remem- 
ber in this meadow is one large apple tree which bore apples on mw. side 
that were red, and on the other white. — " One spreading tree with ap- 
ples white and red," — but I am not naturalist enough to account satisfac- 



ISO NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

torily for tliis phenomenon. " There Mentha rose, &c." Mint — Nepet^ 
too, &c., cat-nip or cat-n»int. " And on the hill the pudding grass," 4&c. 
Penny-royal. — I do not recollect any flowers growing on the little njea- 
dow or on the banks on either side. 

The adjoining farm, a very large and valuable one, was formerly own- 
ed by a Doctor Hood, and latterly by a Mr. Miles Smith, recently de- 
ceased ; and I believe is now owned by his children. "This road to 
walk was never my delight." The road from Smith's to Probasco's 
mill is, I think, about half a mile, running along under tfie hill on the left, 
having the meadows, the river, and its south bank on the left. To a 
stranger at this season of the year, the surrounding scenery might have 
appeared pleasant and picturesque, nay even grand and imposing, but I 
had conceived a dislike to this portion of the road in early life, and the im- 
presssion of its, to me, former gloom and solitude still remained. After 
crossing the brook at Probasco's mill, and coming in sight ef Brunswick 
and its bridge, I regained my former serenity, and my mind was carried 
back to the time when<the bridge was destroyed by a freshet in the river, 
and how firmly it had resisted the power of the stream ever since Abra- 
ham Russell, a builder, a Methodist from New-York, fixed its foundation 
in the rocks beneath. And methought it will be so with us; " if we 
build our house on the sand it will fall, but, if we build it upon the rock 
of ages, it shall never be moved." 

" The morning dawns, I rise," &,c. It was on the Lord's day — I re- 
paired to the former place of worship, expecting once more to be seated 
in the building in which my father worshipped, and to which he took his 
son.s, " now more than half a century gone by." Biit judge of my sur- 
prise, when I found not the modest little brick building, occupying, per- 
haps, onequarterof the loton which itstood. Like'many of the inhabitants 
of Brunswick, who had formerly been found paying their vows and hon- 
ors there, it had disappeared ; and its place was supplied by a large and 
costly edifice, capable, I presume, of containing four times ils number of 
hearers. Costly indeed, I discovered this new Meeting-house on enter- 
ing its doors, to be — all its interior was in the highest style of modern 
elegance — even the very backs of the seats were cushioned — and what 
was there so very strange in all that? Oh, nothing. I suppose, to the young 
and aspiring members and visiters of the English Presbyterian Meeting 
in the City of New-Brunswick. But I intend to make no ill-natured 
remarks either on tliem or on their meeting-house. Looking about for 
the pew, but having forgotten the number of my cousin's pew, I was 
politely acconnnodated with a seat by a gentleman, to me entirely a 
stranger. Truly, if my Countrymen of New-Brunswick should have be- 
come superlatively Attic in their public edifices, after a lapse of a few re- 
volving years; it was delightsome to find, and still more so is it to re- 
cord it to their honor, that they are, nevertheless, sincerely Lacedemo- 
nian in their deportnient to strangers visiting their religi<'us assemblies. 

The sermon in the nmrning was by the regularly stationed Minister, 
a young man, who was. as during the day, I was informed, from Phila- 
delphia. In the afternoon, by another young man from Princeton. 

From the best of my observation and belief the services of the day were 
thus far strictly performed according to the direetion of St. Paul, viz. 
"decently and in order." In the evening I attended the Methodist 
meeting, having been informed in the afternoon, at the Church, that 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 181 

there would be no preaching until evening. I was informed that a 
great revival had recently commenced among the people, particularly 
among the Presbyterians. This was truly " a good hearing" that the 
Lord was at work, "making bare his arm," and a stir among "the dry 
bones" in Brunswick. It was to me an evidence that " the Lord had 
not forgotten to be giacions," — and that "his mercy endiireth for ever." 
The next morning, having arranged my business with Judge Boerum, 
I went ou board the Napoleon, and paid my passage for New-York. 
The weather was remarkably pleasant, as was our four hour's passage 
down the Raritan, through the Kills, and over tiie Bay to the place of 
our destination. On our way down the river, the " crooked stream," 
from its numerous reefs so called, we came at length to the " implanted 
poles," showing their " beacon heads," indicating the oyster beds, which 
were there submersed ; the particularsrespecting which are detailed in the 
Poem, only with the exception of the names and mode of cooking the 
oysters, which, I believe, is peculiar to Raritan Landing. The oystera 
picked ort'the beds are small single oysters and are called by, the landing- 
ers. Raccoons, for what reason I cannot tell, except it be, that as the Eng- 
lish population of New-Jersey, hail originally from some part of New 
England, the term has emanated from thence ; for old Bailey in his Dic- 
tionary, says "Raccoon, a creature in New England, like a badger, with 
a tail like a fox." If the learned reader perceives any analogy, or re- 
semblance between au oyster and a "creature" as above described, I con- 
fess it is more than I can ; but of this much I am fully persuaded, that 

Call an oyster what you will, 
Yet it is an oyster still. — Kel, 

and now for the "illos modus coquere," the mode or manner of cooking 
them. 

Sometimes boiling water is poured into a washing tub, and as many 
as is thought sufficient — say one or two bushels of oysters, are put into 
the tub, which is carefully covered over with two or more folds of a blan- 
ket, and there the oysters continue until cooked by the steam ; the fami- 
ly then surrounding the tub, commence eating the oysters, opening them 
with their knives at the hinge end of the oyster. The condiments are 
simple — salt, pepper, and vinegar, and some home-made mustard, if you 
please. At other times the oysters are baked in the oven, after the bread 
is taken out. And so much for the epicures of Raritan Landing. This 
though not the most refined, is at least an economical mode of prepa- 
ring this delicious food. 

"Filled with Mosquitoes," &c. These insects are peculiarly annoy- 
ing to passengers in the summer season. Salt water from the Bay, or 
water with salt mixed with it, will allay the poison of their stings. After 
passing Mount Arrarat on the right, we came to Perth Amboy on the 
left, which is a stopping place ; opposite is the tail or end of Staten Is- 
land. South Amboy is at the south end of the Raritan, which empties it- 
self into Princes' Bay. Along the Kills are many handsome country 
houses, belonging to gentlemen in New-York, whose Bay being so uni- 
versally known, needs no description. We came to at the wharf, foot 
of Marketfield-street, adjacent to Castle Garden. 

Ou a review of the premises, I cannot say that I would be willing to 

Q. 



182 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

quit Brooklyn for Raritan Landing, though it be my native village. 1 
enjoy many comforts, which I should be deprived of at Raritan Landing 
— yet I am willing to think of it, to speak of it, and bear in fond remem- 
brance, and even to visit it, as often as occasion may present. But V 
must at present, at least, for many substantial reasons, give Brooklyn the 
preference. 

" Friend, if thou canst," Sfc. — Page 79. 

During the last war it was customary to use the phrase color of the 
day, as it now is to speak of the Liou of the day. 

" Why dost thoit mourn," 8fc. — Page 79. 

I consider my political pieces as here ending, and my religious ones 
commencing. 

As to the times when, and particular circumstances under which the 
greatest part of them were written, I can only say that I found them scat- 
tered throughout my books, or on pieces of paper in my desk, some un- 
finished, and some requiring revision and retouching in order for publi- 
cation. 

" Reprobates. Those whom (as some believe) God has predestined to 
damnation ; also, very wicked or lewd persons." — Bailey. 

" Lost to virtue, lost to grace, abandoned." — South. 

" To reprobate. To abandon to wickedness and eternal destruction." 
— Hammond. 

' ' Reprobation . The act of abandoning, or state of being abandoned to 
eternal destruction. "-^Jlfainc. 

Either of these definitions, one might suppose, is of sufiiciently fearful 
import to deter any reasonable person from the deliberate commission 
of wickedness. Yet the Scriptures represent men in their natural or un- 
converted estate, as blind — '• blinded by the god of this world," and so 
are " led captive by him at his will," as says the sweet singer of Eng- 
land, Dr. Watts s 

" And Satan binds our captive souls 
Fast in his slavish chains." 

But another author from the same country observes — " Mankind are 
»ot left to Satan, nor to their own lusts, nor to live without God in the 
world. A way is cast up, a means is provided. Besides the natural and 
traditional consciousness of mere moral good and evil in every breast, 
God hath a divine witness in the heart of each individual, which will 
truly manifest right and wrong in the consciences of those who faithfully 
attend thereunto, afford light and power to set them free from the mists 
of prepossession and prejudice, and become a safe conductor and an 
able supporter in the paths of religion and virtue." — 7. Phipps. 

Again, he asks : " What instructor can we have equal to this 
most intimate witness? a monitor so near, so constant, so faithful, so 
infallible? This is the great gospel privilege of every man: the ad- 
vantage of having it preached day by day in his own heart, without mo- 
ney and without price, yet with certainty. Is it reasonable to conclude, 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 183 

this nice, true, and awful discerner, should be less than divine?" I think 
therefore, it is arriving at a fair and safe conclusion to pronounce, that 
until the Holy Spirit ceases to strive in a man, he cannot be a reprobate. 
For " God will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowl- 
edge of the truth;" and so "the grace of God that bringeth salvation 
hath appeared unto all men, teaching us (by its convictions) that" &c. 
SeeTit.ii.il, 12. 

" God heth not left hia creature man, 
To Satan's tyrant sway; 
Nor here without himself to live. 
To his own lusts a prey." — Kel. 

" The radiant Sun," ^c. — Page 80. 

I cannot recollect the precise time when I composed this address — 
but I remember handing a copy of it to my class-leader, Samuel Wil- 
liams, who has since "gone the way of all the earth." I think he said it 
was not spoken, and that another, perhaps a more appropriate one, had 
been composed for the occasion. 

There are, it would appear, Rabbins in every persuasion, who decide 
"ad libitum," and whose dictum is final and conclusive. " And in this 
place the gospel heard." " The gospel," says the Rev. Dr. Dwight, 
" is the rain and the sunshine of Heaven on the moral world. 

" Would you," ^c— Page 83. 

If any one should be troubled with kakoaithais scribendi,* or itch for 
writing poetry, let him improve it by following the advice contained in 
this distich. 

" Distrust, 'tis not ingenuous," Sfc. — Page 83. 

As though the Preacher had said, that is a spurious piety, which is pro- 
ductive of no real benefit to society. Piety is "Godliness, Devotion, 
natural affection, love to one's Country or parents," — so Bailey. Piety 
is nothing but a profound esteem, an infinite love for God — but how 
could we esteem him, if we imagined he was jealous of our happiness, 
and an enemy to our persons ? — Claude 389, vol. 2. 

" Ye listening youths," Sfc. — Page 83. 

I wrote this piece to be spoken by one of Mr. A. Picket's scholars, on 
the occasion of the death of one of his companions. I do not remem- 
ber the name of the deceased, nor whether or not it was spoken in the 
school. 

* Schrevelius, in his Lexicon, says the seventh letter — apud Graecos 
— with or among the Greeks, sounds e — my teacher directed it to be render- 
ed in English by ai, Dipth. 



184 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" Body and Soul," S^c. — Page 84. 

All who believe in the truth of the Scriptures, must admit that there 
will be a resurrection of the dead; equally imperative ia the declaration 
of the Apostle Paul in the 5th chapter and J 0th verse of his se- 
cond Epistle to the Corinthians ; " For we must all appear before the 
judgment seat of Christ, «&c., and in the 15th chapter and 52d verse of 
the first Epistle to the same people — " for the dead shall be raised incor- 
ruptible, and we shall be changed." And in the following verse, " For 
this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on 
immortality. And this because " Death being svi'allowed up in victory," 
that bis saints may give thanks to God, " who gives them the victory 
through their Lord Jesus Christ." The Doctrine of the resurrection, 
of tne dead, was Jinknown to the Heathens — as is evident from the 
32d verse of the 17th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles — " And when 
they {the learned Athenians,) heard of the resurrection of the dead, 
some mocked, and others said, we will hear thee again of this matter." 
And that sect among the Jews, God's ancient people, called Sadducees, 
from Sadock, their first founder, who received only the five Books of 
Moses, denied the being of Angels and Spirits, and the resurrection ef 
the body. But neither their unbelief, nor that of any other being can 
invalidate the declaration of one, greater than Saint Paul, who assured 
the Jews, that in case they should destroy this temple," thereby mean- 
ing his body, in three days, he would raise it up." 

I cannot exactly account either for the time of beginning or finishing 
this piece. Sometimes I found a piece just commenced, at others near- 
ly completed, in this or that book of compositions, of which I have sev- 
eral, and then I was obliged to give them the finishing touch in oirfer 
to, fit them for an introductiou into my book of Specimens. 

" Say that it is when you," «fec. — Page 85. 

Faith in Divinity and Philosophy, is the firm belief of certain truths 
upon the testimony of the person who reveals them. 

The grounds of rational faith are : 

First — That the things revealed be not contrary to, though they may 
be above natural reason. 

Second — That the revealer be well acquainted with the thing he re- 
veals. 

Third — That he be above all suspicion of deceiving us. 

When these criteria are found, no reasonable person will deny hie 
assent. 

Thus we may as well deny our existence as the truth of a Revelation 
coming from God, who can neither deceive Himself, or deceive others 
by proposing things to be believed that are contradictory to the faculties 
he has given us. 

Whatever proposition*, therefore, are beyond reason, but not contra- 
ry to it, are, when revealed, the proper matter of Faith.- 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 185 

FAITH, WORKS, LOVE. 

By faith we live on God, 
By works we live to God, 
By love we live in God. 

Faith, says the celebrated commentator Burket, is the gift of God aa 
well as Jesus Christ, and the one is as necessary as the other for salvation. 
For as the only way to Heaven is by Christ, so the only true way to Christ 
is by faith. As sin has put a vanity in the creature, so unbelief puts a 
vanity in Christ that he should profit us nothing. Wrestle we, therefore, 
with God in prayer for a believing heart. 

The celebrated French divine, Mr. Saurin, in his sermon on Habak- 
kuk ii. 4, " The Just shall live byhis faith," speaks of a " living faith, 
faith as a principle of renovation ; faith which receives the deci- 
sions of Jesus Christ, embraces his promises, and enables hs lo devote 
ourselves to his service." 

" If in this life ice," &c. — Page 85. 

This piece remained for many years in an unfinished state, on the last 
leaf of my school journal, and it is but recently that I have fitted it up ia 
the shape in which it now appears in the Specimens. 

The title of the piece, the expostulation, and the exhortation it con- 
tains, so sufficiently explain its import, as, doubtless, to preclude the ne- 
cessity of any further comment ou the subject. 

" See where the houseless," Sfc. — Page 86. 

I was an eye-witness to this fact, many years ago— and on mention- 
ing it to an acquaintance, was informed that it did not proceed fron» 
want of room in the Cathedral, but from the circumstance of the ina- 
bility of the out-door worshippers, on the steps of the building, to pay 
for pews. It is a consoling reflection that it is not necessary to carry 
with us into the other world, a well filled purse of silver and gold, those 
corruptible things, wherewith to purchase a seat in Heaven. 

" This sentence let each," Sfc. — Page 86. 

This is the sentence of him who " spake as never man spake," and 
from this decision none of the posterity of fallen Adam, will ever make 
a succesful appeal. 

" Though sprung from Afric's," SfC. — Page 86, 

It is related of a certain son of Africa, that while near his end, some 
white people present, were commiserating his case, exclaiming, " Poor 
Pompey !" to which he replied — "No — not Poor Pompey, King Pom- 
pey." — No Christian will mistake his meaning. 



186 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" Never heed the worldling's scoff" Sfc. — Page 8G. 

This piece was partially composed several j'ears since, and was no? 
matured until recently. Whether the sentiments embodied in the Poem, 
were originated by considering the literal meaning of tne word martyr 
— Greek, Witness — English, or in its evangelical sense, viz. " One who 
bears witness to the truth of the Christian Religion at the expense of 
his life," or that verse in the Revelations, — " Be thou faithful unto 
death, and I will give thee a crown," or the Poem entitled Christ's 
Resurrection and Ascension, I cannot now precisely determine. But 
whether either one or all of them contributed to, and induced the for- 
mation of the " Martyr's Crown," I certainly so admired the "Resurrec- 
tion and Ascension," as not only to write it in my common-place book, 
but to compose my piece in the same metre. 

If my readers should esteem it as highly as I do, f trust it will be a 
sufficient apology for inserting it in my Notes. 

"Christ's Resurrection and Ascension." 

"Angels roll the rock awaVi 
Death yield up thy mighty pi"ey>- 
See he rises from the tomb, 
Glowing with immortal bloom. 

" Tis the Saivour— Angels, raise 
Fame's eternal trump of praise ; 
Let the earth's remotest bound 
Hear the joy inspiring sound. 

Now ye saints lift up your eyes. 
Now to glorj' see hun rise^ 
In long triumph to the sky, 
Up to waiting worlds on high. 

Heaven displays her portals wide, 
Glorious Hero throiisrh them ride; 
King of glory mount thy throne, 
Thy great Father's, and thine own. 

Praise him, all ye heavenly choii-s. 
Praise and sweep your golden lyres , 
Shout O Earth in rapturous song, 
Let the strains be sweet and strongs 

Every note with wonder swell, 
Sin o'erthrown and captured Hell ; 
Where is Hell's once dreaded king,. 
Where, O Death thy dreaded sting." 

" 1 see the letter, mid approve," &c. — Page 88. 

Thifl DiBtich is a translation I made not long since. I have seen the 
name of the author, but in what book, whether in Saurin or some other 
book, I cannot remember. My old classmate nearly half a century past 
(whom 1 have mentioned before in these notes) calls the author " a 
JPoet." In his dissertation styled " The young Compositor," he ob- 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. ISr 

serves " But after all I have said, it is a true and common saying, that 
what is taught by precept is not shown by example ; for where our in- 
clination points, we naturally (bilow, though at the expense of error." 
And with much propriety might I have applied to myself the words of 
the Poet: 

" I see the right and I approve it too, 

Conrleran the wrong, and yet. the wrong pursue." 

I will here take the liberty to repeat the latin quotation, which both of 
us have verbified " Video meliora proboque, deUriora seq^uor." My ver- 
sion is : 

"I see the better, and approve them too ; 
Yet, notwithstanding, I worse thing's pursue." 

The words meliora and deteriora are adjectives, in the plural num- 
ber, and must, of course, agree with some substantive or noun under- 
stood ; and that too, in the neuter gender. The word therefore to bo 
supplied, I have presuujed to be " negotium" — a neuter noun of tlie 
second declension, and which, among its nine different significations iu 
Ainswortli, has tiie following — " Any affair, matter, or tiling." The 
learned reader will easily perceive the coincidence (.accidental not de- 
signed) between the words of the two different versions, and that my 
classmate has given a liberal and I a literal translation. 

And here I would remark of c, incidences, or according to Bailey — 
"coincidents," — that, generally many may happen without premedita- 
tion or design, and therefore, in writings, will not always merit the ap- 
pellation of plagiarism, or " book thieving." And also, that many have 
happened of which the most erudite critic of the present age, is and ever 
will remain, while in this world, most profoundly ignorant. 

I will here mention one, which, if not for prool or illustration, I, at 
least, consider as a literary curiosity. About six years since, while co- 
pying for a certain Lexicographer, in Brooklyn, under the letter Aleph, 
this coincidence was suggested to my mind. The names of the three 
sons of Noah, who, with him, survived the flood, and re-peopled the 
world, were Shein, Ham, and Japketh, the initials of whose three names 
are 6'. //. J. As these were Hebrew words, and as we are instructed 
that the Hebrew language is written and read from the right hand to 
the left — these initial letters will stand J. H. S. Now the title given to 
our blessed Saviour, by the Latins was " Jesus Hominuin Salvator, (Je- 
sus the Saviour of mankind,) the initial letters of which three words are 
J. H. S. This I consider a literary coincidence, and I neither obtained 
it from conversation, nor from books. 

" J'ke mind with conscious," tyc — Page 88. 

This was the motto to my old Professor of Moral Philosophy's Book, 
entitled, I think. Moral Philosophy, by Joan D. Gross— P. M. P., Co- 
lumbia College, &c. 

It is designed to show that true contentment is not the offspring of 
riches, and truly they are but a miierable substitute for conscious recti- 



188 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

tude of mind. Of what use would the most delicate viands be without 
a wholesome appetite ? 

" And pray ichat is the use," Sfc. — Page 88. 

Or rather for what purpose did Providence bestow strong natural 
powers of mind on a man, and suffer them to be cultivated by a liberal ed- 
ucation? Why most assuredly that they should be employed for the 
promotion of His honor and glory, and /'or the benefit of mankind. 

That learning is a " talent," of no inconsiderable kind is certain — for 
it renders its possessor, in the right and proper use of it, capable of doing 
much good — and in the abuse of it, of perpetrating much evil in the 
world. And learning is a talent for the " occupation" of which a strict 
account will be required in a coming day. 

" That he had been he prcv'd," Sec. — Page 89. 

The two first lines of this six lined piece, remained alone for many 
years in my Journal, and it is not many months since that I added the 
remaining four. It has been remarked that " Republics are ungrateful," 
and if that remark can with justice be applied to our Republic in any 
one instance, it must be in that which relates to the revolutionary sol- 
diers of America. 

Should any one ask the question " have they not been amply remu- 
nerated for their revolutionary services, by our government ? why pro- 
pose a question that has been so repeatedly answered ? Is it not a suf- 
ficient answer for the Revolutionary soldier should be agitate the sub- 
ject of remuneration for past services, " Dulce et deconum, est pro pa- 
tria mori?" I will not call it a literal translation, to say, " When the 
danger is past and there is no need for your services, then die, for your 
country's benefit." Nor this : " When you have done with the stool, kick 
it away." " Ingratitude, says Mr. Buck, in his Theological Dictionary, 
" is the vice of being insensible to favors received, without any endeav- 
ors to acknowledge and repay them. It is sometimes applied to the 
act of returning evil for good. Ingratitude, it is said, is no passion, for 
the God of nature has appointed no motion of the spirits whereby it 
might be excited ; it is therefore a mere vice arising from pride, stupidi- 
ty, or narrowness of soul." 

" Look you for lifers suffering," Sfc. — Page 89. 

This world is not a proper portion for a being who is destined to sur- 
vive, the ruins of this "mundane sphere." " The things of this world 
perish in the using." " Riches take to themselves wings and fly away, 
Uke an eagle towards Heaven." " Eating, drinking, and sleeping," says 
a certain celebrated divine, " are mean employments for an immortal 
mind." 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 189 

" Our feeble frames," &c. — Page 89. 

Physicians compare the decays of nature to successive shades. The 
comparison, whether pleasing or not, is certainly correct — Dealli is the 
last shade. 

" Sinners repent," &;c. — Page 89. 

Repentance is defined by the Rev. Wilham Kinkadeto be — or to use 
his own words, " Repentance implies a sorrow for, a hatred of, and a 
turning from sin," page 230. Bible doctrine, " You are lost by sin," 
&.C. Mr. BurUet says, " Death came into the world by Sin, and Sin goes 
out of the world by Death." — W. B. 

" God tempts his saints," Sfc. — Page 90. 

Ainsworth in his Dictionary defines the word " Tentatio," by our Eng- 
lish word " proof;" according to this definition it would read, God proves 
his saints in various ways, &c., and thus understood, the word is cleat 
from all ambiguity or mistake. 

" When of his sins," &c. — Page 90. 

" A penitent draws nigh to God, as a criminal approaches his judge. 

"The first emotions of a penitent's conscience are usually excited by 
objects of fear, thus ; Noah being moved with fear, prepared uu Ark for 
safety — Heb. ii. 7. 

" Our divines distinguish a slavish from a filial fear ; the- first produ- 
ces, a legal, the last an evangelical repentance; and it is allowed that the 
conversion of a sinner often begins in the first, though it cannot be com- 
plete without the last condition ; the first a fear of punishment, the se- 
cond a desire to please God. 

Filial fear agrees with love. One of the finest notions that can be for- 
med of any Christian grace, is that of its harmony with all other Chris- 
tian graces ; no general rule of descril)ing a virtue will tend more to- 
wards preserving us from error than this. Thus hope lightens fear ; 
fear is ballast to hope. Faith keeps repentance from running into des- 
pair, and repentance keeps faith from rising to presumption. 

" The new man, or that set of graces which constitute a Christian, is 
like the natural body, a beautiful composition of seemingly opposite ma- 
terials, formed into oue uniform system, each part essential to the whole, 
and the whole the glory of each part. 

" Fear sometimes signifies humility, reverence, worship, moral obe- 
dience," &c. — Claude, on the comp. of a sermon, page 3^0, A. M. 

" Jtsdf a power," &c. Page 91. 

Sold is defined to be a Power, susceptible and capable of representa- 
tions. The difli'erent modes in which that power exerts itself are called 
faculties." Gross' Moral Philosophy. 

The Rev. Richard Baxter (of whom it is reported, that after haviog 



190 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

written thirty-three polemical, or books about controversial points, caine 
to this conclusion, " that it was impossible to carry a madman to Heav- 
en in chains") has the following on this subject. "The soul of man 
is immortal, and if good, cannot be forever iu a bad condition. An itu- 
niortal spirit is a distinct, self-conscious, invisible being, endowed with 
natural powers of never ceasing action, understanding and will, and 
which is neither annihilated or destroyed by separation of parts. Such 
is the soul of man." 

The Rev. James Saurin, in his sermon on Matt. xvi. 26, says the 
" term soul, which is used in this passage, is one of the most equivocal 
words in Scripture ; for it is taken indifferent, and even in contrary sen- 
ses, so that sometimes it signifies a dead body." Lev. :;xi, 1. 

" Soul may be taken for life — as in JMatt. ii. 20. Soul may be taken 
for that spiritual part of us which we call (kal exochen) the sold by way 
of excellence, and in this sense it is used by our Lord, x. 28. He con- 
cludes to understand by the soul, in his text, the spirit of man." Again, 
he asserts, that "we do clearly and distinctly know three properties of 
the soul, that it is capable of knowing, willing and feeling — or intelli- 
gence, volition and sensation, or more properly, the acutest sensibility." 

It would be well if our modern divines would give the sermons of 
this eminent minister of the gospel of our Lord, Jesus Christ, an atten- 
tive and candid perusal. I take him to be another John Fletcher. These 
sermons I suppose may be procured from the Harpers, who recently 
published them in two volumes. 

" Man, sure a thinking," Sfc. — Page 9L 

Man is defined to be " a living being, endowed with an organic 
body, and a rational soul," G. M. P. His soul or spirit has been alrea- 
dy defined — as to his body, it is said to have its " origin by conception, its 
growth by nutrition, and its termination by death." " I think," says a 
certain philosopher, "and therefore, I know that I exist. Certainly, every 
reasonable man knows that he is not his own maker. But does he pro- 
perly appreciate the blessing of " thought, (or thinking,) which, accord- 
ing to Mr. Buck, is sentiment, reflection, opinion, design ? A little self 
examination may determine the question. 

" Hoic vast his poicer," Sec,'' — Page 9L 

" Jehovah, the most sacred name of God, denoting him who is, who 
was, and is to come." Bailey. 

Mr. Sauriu relates an anecdote of a Roman Consul's requiring a 
Jewish Rabbi to explain to him the names of God. The Rabbi gave him 
to understand that these were mysteries altogether divine, and which 
ought to be concealed from the generality of mankind. He condescend- 
ed, however, to inform him, that strictly speaking, there is no name 
given to God, by which we can be made fully to comprehend what he 
is. " His name is his essence, of which we can form no distinct idea ; 
for could we fully comprehend the essence of God, we sihould be like 
God. " These words," he adds, " are full of meaning, thoy lay down a 
principle of momentary use to us, that is, we must be infinite, in order 
fully to comprehend an infinite Being," 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 191 

I know not whence I derived this definition of God, but I trust I never 
shall forget it. " He is the great and unwasted source of all being and 
of all blessedness." Which being admitted, I cannot imagine how we 
can avoid coming to the conclusion, that all other beings derive their 
being from, and owe their existence and their happiness to this great first 
cause of " all being and of all blessedness." The Apostle Paul asserts, 
that " with us (Christians) there is but one God, the Father, of whom 
are all things, and we in him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are 
all things, and we by him, " and concerning the Holy Ghost or Spirit 
he queries on this wise: "Whatman knoweth the things of a man, 
save the spirit of man that is in him ? and then unequivocally and posi- 
tively pronounces, even so, the things of God knoweth no man but the 
Spirit of God. Disputants and maintainers of a certain disputed point 
in theology, viz. the vTzoarcKTig, or subsistence, &c., would do well tho- 
roughly to weigh the import of the Apostle's assertions, before they pro- 
nounce any one unsound in the faith by requiring from him a greater de* 
gree offaith than was demanded of the Apostlesof our Lord Jesus Chirst. 
The povi'er of Jehovah — who can thunder with a voice like his — who 
hath an arm like his or who can stay his hand — or who dare say un- 
to him by way of represion or challenge, what doest thou ? For he do- 
eth his pleasure in the armies of Heaven, and among the inhabitants of 
this lower world ; and blessed are all they that do his commands, that 
they may have a right to the tree of life. See the Psalms of David paa- 
sioi. 

" The grave's a place" &c. — Page 91 

" Grave, literally a hole dug in the eaith to bury the dead." " Heav- 
en, the abode of heavenly beings," &c. — " Hell, the residence of Devils 
and dalnned spirits, also the state of the dead." The grave, that place 
in which " there is no knowledge, no work nor device." — Scripture. 

THE poet's reflection ON THIS SUBJECT. 

" Pass a few swiftly fleeting j'ears, 

And all that now in bodies live 
.Shall quit, like me, this vale of tears, 

Their righteous sentence to receive. 

" But all, before they hence remove, 

May mansions for themselves prepare 
111 that eternal House above. 

And, O, ir.y God, shall I be there ?" 

Heaven, that blessed place where nothing that is impure or unholy 
shall ever enter, that place where " the wicked cease from troubling, 
and where weary souls are for ever at rest," that is, from persecution 
of every kind — " Hell, a place or state of torment in another state 
of being." Our blessed Saviour says of Dices, (the rich man,) " he died 
and was buried, and in Hell he lifted up his eyes being in torment," 
Luke 16th. 



193 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" JVould you escape," &c. — Page 92. 

As the Scriptures of tnit'i cannot err, they certainly must be in error 
who exclude tlie wrath of God from their creed. Take this one assertion 
of St. Paul, Romans i. 18: •' For the wrat/j of God is revealed from Hea- 
ven, against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men ;" and then, if 
any deny the wrath of God, when He sees fit to exercise it, they do it at 
their peril. But He hath eternal life in reserve for all those, who by a 
patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory, honor, immortality. 
" In God's own book these truths are found " 

The moral philosopher defines truth as follows: "Truth, tlie princi- 
pal object of the duties of speech, is, in its nature, harmony and consis- 
tency, which are coeternul with the mternal possibility of the essence of 
things lis etfects are order, beauty, connexion, and mutual depen- 
dence in all that exists, its tendency is moral excellence ; and its object 
the compass of all that can render life happy, support us under the vi- 
cissitudes of time and chance, and bear up the soul with the sure hope 
of immortality," — Gross' M. P. 

Our blessed Saviour says, " I am the truth." 

" Hebtj his charities," «fec.-^Page 93. 

The sentiment is first from Mr. Saurin — and is perfectly scriptural : 
" Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness," &c., 
q. V. This man acted in conformity to this direction of our Lord — he 
gave to the poor; and the Scripture saith, "he that giveth to the poor 
lendeth to the Lord," who gives him to understand, ihat he will repay 
him, in this world, a hundred-fold — and in the world to come with life 
everlasting. But " he that despiseth the poor reproacheth his Maker." 

By charity is to be understood, natural affection, love. In Divinity 
— the love of God and one's neighbour, also alms — Bailey. — Who adds, 
" The uncharitable, who have not the natural affection to relieve the ne- 
cessitous poor out of their abundance, intimate thereby, most unchristian- 
ly, that self-love is the measure of our love to our neighbour." 

" Self government tee temperance," &c. — Page 93. 

This is a recent composition, and the Rev. T. Dwight has supplied 
me with the most satisfactory definition of the term, I have ever met 
with in any of my former readings. I have therefore considered myself 
warranted in assuming the extensive proposition, that it embraces the 
whole of our duty as a law, towards God, our neighbours and ourselves. 
Temperance, is moderation, soberness, restraint of aflTections or pas- 
sions — Bailey. Mem. I think when there is no law against a thing, it 
must of itself be a law. 

" IVc in the doctrines," &c. — Page 94. 

The sentiment is from Dwight's sermons. The doctrine of JesuB 
Christ and his Apostles in its whole connection is called in Holy Scrip- 
ture, " the Gospel — Moravians. A precept is a command, rule, in- 
struction, lesson. — Bailey. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 195 

The whole doctrine of Jesus and his Apostles is Gospel; and is thus 
called in the Holy Scripture. Our Lord Jesus Christ comprises all the 
commandments of God, in the love of God and our neighbour. — Mor. 

" See the hlcss'd Saviour," &c. — Page 94. 

The second line inthis distich I found in Mr. Saurin. Among the fifteen 
meanings assigned to the word Virtue ; in Bailey, he does not name the 
word courage. This was the sense in which the Romans considered 
the word Virtue, and so we tinderstaud the apostle Peter to mean whea 
he directs " add to your faith Virtue, courage" Ainsworth hns the word 
courage among others under Virtus; so let it be, courage or valour. — 
Glory — Greek, Doxa, opinio — English, opinion — Latin, estimatio, praise, 
opinion, thought — say then it means " to be thought well of, to be held in 
esteem." But I cannot think of deriving it from tlie word glow, which 
Bailey says means to grovv hot or red, as do the cheeks and ears. 

And now let us inquire what analogy have the two lines to each oth- 
er? And who more courageous than the Saviour, the Captain of our 
salvation ? and the Church, His body and bride, being in this world in a 
militant state, are soldiers under him. The poet says, 

"Soldiers of Christ arise, 
And put your arniour on ;" &c. 

And as He holds these soldiery of His in high estimation, while they 
contiinie to fight under His banner, why may not another poet be allow- 
ed to imagine the Saviour as sometimes, at least, walking by the side of 
His followers, as well as at other times marching at their head 1 

"Hurried, surprised, atidicith," Sfc. — Page 94. 

Let me supply this note in Mr. D wight's own words, without any 
comment of mine. " Death 'tis a melancholy day to those who have no 
God."' But to all those who thus waste their probation, and abuse the 
mercy of God, the time of Christ's coming will be dreadful.. Surpris- 
ed, hurried, and with distress, they leave the world in^terror, and awake 
in eternity, utterly unprepared to meet their Judge." — Vol. 2d, 
page 319. 

" Remember this," S(c. — Page 94. 

This is taken from the same atuhor. The intelligent reader can hard- 
ly fail of understanding its true import. At all events he will discover 
that it is, what it no doubt was intended to be, a " memento mori," Re- 
member death ! 

" ' Twos said that light," &c. — Page 95. 

Seethe first chapter and 5th verse of the Gospel, according to St. 
John. 

Mr. Saurin undertakes to account for the fall of man, (and the con^ 
R 



194 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

sequent introduction of sin into our world,) by ascribing it to an exces- 
sive desire of iaiowing. " Further, the desire ofknoicing, is one of the 
most natural desires of man, and one of the most essential to his happi- 
ness. Man hath a natural avidity of extending his sphere of knowledge. 
I think God commanded our first parents to restrain this desire, because 
it was one of their most eager wishes. Accordingly, the most danger- 
ous allurements that Satan used to withdraw them from their obedience 
to God, was this of science ; ijc shall be as gods knowing good and evil, 
Gen. iii. 5. The state of innocence was a very happy state, however 
it was a state of trial, to the perfection of which something was want- 
ing. In every dispensation, God so ordered it, that man should arrive 
at the chief good by way of sacrifice, and by the sacrifice of that which 
mankind holds most dear, and this was the reason of the primitive pro- 
hibition, Gen. ii. 16, 17. I presume, had man properly borne this trial, 
he would have been rewarded with that privilege, the usurpation of 
which was so fotai to him." — Sermon on real liberty. 

Onealone," iS'c, and that only one is our blessed Saviour, whose "blood 
cleanseth from all sin." Our Saviour appears to have had three great 
purposes in descending from his glory and dwelling among men. The 
first, to teach them true virtue, both by his example and precepts. The 
second, to give them the most forcible motives to the practice of it by 
bringing life and immortality to light ; by showing them the certainty of 
a resurrection and judgment, and the absolute necessity of obedience 
to God's laws. The third, to sacrifice himself for us, to obtain by his 
death the remission of our sins, upon our repentance and reformation, 
and the power of bestowing upon his sincere followers, the inestima- 
ble gift of immortal happiness. — Chapone. 

" Did worth departed," Sfc. — Page 95. 

If worth be considered as desert or merit, we may doubtless disclaim 
all pretensions to any on our part ; but that there is such an attainment 
as to be " counted icorthy," is evident from this direction of our Saviour 
to His disciples, on a certain occasion, " watch, therefore, and pray al- 
ways, that ye may be counted worthy, to escape &c., and to stand before 
the Son of man." 

" Columbia College," S,'c. — Page 95. 

And now I have arrived at that part of my Specimens where I would 
delight to linger and indulge in thp contemplation of former pleasaut 
reminiscences. But I am circumscribed. Spapituum non dalur. 

The Catalogue of this venerable Institution directs its alitmni, at least; 
" Antiqvam cxquirite matrem — Virgil; which (if taken in the second 
sense assigned to the verb exquiro), I would translate, " Pray for (the 
prosperity of) old mother, Columbia College." 

This pamphlet purports to be a " Catalogue of Columbia College, in 
the City of New-York ; embracmg the names of the Trustees, Officers, 
and graduates ; together with a list of all Academical Honors confer- 
red by the Institution from A. D. 1758, to A. D. 1836. 

Then follows a list of the Trustees of King's College, New-York, as 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 195 

appointed by Royal Charter.'A. D. 1754, at the head of whom, sixteen 
in number, stands ex orticio the most Reverend Father in (jiod, Thom- 
as, Archbishop of Canterbury: and the Archbishop of Canterbury, for 
the time being. 

The first president under the Royal Charter was the Rev. Samuel 
Johnson, S. T. P. (Sanctae Theologiae Professor) Professor of Holy- 
Theology, appointed 1754, resigned 1763, and author of " an English 
and Hebrew Grammar," to which is added, A synopsis of all the parts of 
Learning. London printed by, &c., 1771. The first president under the 
new Charter was William Samuel Johnson, L. L. D. Legis Legum 
Doctor, translated Doctor of the learned laws — appointed 1787, resign- 
ed 1800. Lender this president, at the age of 13 years I entered the 
Freshman class at Columbia College, but in consequence of my uncle's 
removing in the country and taking me with him, I did not graduate 
until the year 1796. So that I was a student in two classes, in the form- 
er of which was my warm and constant friend. His Excellency Daniel 
D. Tompkins, Governor, &c., and afterwards Vice President of the 
U. S. At the head of the latter was David S. Jones, Esq., the brother 
of Samuel Jones, Esq., the present chief Justice of the Superior Court 
in the city of New-York. 

Our Professors of the Greek and Latin languages were Peter Wilson, 
A. M. for the first year, for the remainder of my time at Columbia Col- 
lege, the Rev. Elias, I think Elijah De Rattoon, Professor of geography 
and moral philosophy. Rev. John Daniel Gross, S. T. D., afterwards, 
1795, Rev. John McKnight, S.T. D.—M. Phil, and Logic. Professor of 
mathematics and natural philosophy, John Kemp, L. L. D. — Yellette 
De Marcellin was appointed professor of the French language in 1792, 
but though he signed my Diploma, I did not study with him. Messrs. 
McDonald, Agnel, and Rey De la Roiisse were alternately my French 
teachers. 

The statute for awarding medals to students for good standing in the 
different classes was not passed by the Trustees until the year 1831. 
The Catalogue was presented to me, some time since, by General Ed- 
ward W. Laight, President of the Eagle Fire Insurance Co., Wall-street. 
He graduated in 1793. 

The class to which I originally belonged, numbered thirty-two ; only 
twenty-si.x of whom I perceive by the Catalogue, graduated. The noa 
graduates were John Troup, Elbert Herring, George Harrison, the 
two Smiths, from, I think. South Carolina, and also a Mr. Hooper, from 
the same place, and myself. From the best of my recollection one half 
of the actual graduates have departed this life. The only two survivors 
whom I meet occasionally, are Sylvanus Miller and Thomas Phosnix, 
Esqs., the former at one time Surrogate, and the latter District Attorney, 
for the City and County of New-York. 

Among those who departed this life, were John Ferguson, Esq., dur- 
ing the last war Mayor of the City of New- York, and for many years 
Naval Officer in the Customs. The Rev. James Inglis, minister of the 
Gospel at Baltimore. The Rev. Nicholas Jones, Chaplain at Govern- 
or's Island, as I was informed. The Rev. John Blair Linn, (the best 
composuist in our class ; and Author of " Miscellaneous Works, prose and 
poetical" Sfc.,) minister at Philadelphia. William Rose, Esq., formerly 
Senator in the Legislature of our State. Daniel D. Tompkins, Esq,, 



196 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

for three terms Governor of our State. Pierre C. Van Wyck, Esq., 
formerly Recorder of our City, and Effingham Warner, son of George 
Warner, who was studying for the Ministry, and Robert Ray Remsen, 
brother of Henry Remsen, Esq., former President of Manhattan Bank. 
Of the class to which I was afterwards attached, anly fifteen of us gradu- 
ted. David S. Jones, Esq., our head— Andrew S. Garr, Esq., (the best 
mathematician in the class,) and Doctor William Turk, for the last 
thirty years a surgeon in our Navy, I know to be still living. — Doctor 
Philip Fisher has gone the way of all the earth. 

All these classmates of mine were professional men — and I might have 
been one also ; but when my Uncle, whose namesake I am, offered me 
my choice of the professions, 1 told him 1 had rather be with him in his 
Counting House, for he was a Merchant. 

" On Generals we like" SfC. — Page 99. 

On this subject Mr. Saurin observes, " It is with difiiculty we digest 
those addresses from the Pulpit, in which the preacher ventures to go 
into certain details, without which it is impossible for us to acquire self 
knowledge. We are fond of dwelling on Generals. Our own por- 
trait excites disgust. It is a circumstance well worthy being remarked, 
that what we admire most in the sermons of the dead, is the very thing 
which gives most offence in the sermons of the living. 

" We are not disposed to bear with the private admonitions of a friend, 
who is so faithful as to unveil to us our hearts." 

" Let in my name and stead," d^c. — Page 99. 

I have never heard how the young lady received the compliment paid 
her in this distich ; and so I can say nothing more concerning it in the 
shape of a Note. 

" Mourn not, ye friends," Sfc. — Page 100. 

I think I wrote this Epitaph (by request) above forty years ago — 
and also, that he was interred in the burying ground, corner of Houston 
and EUlridge-streets ; I saw it on his tomb-stone afterwards. 

" Our Father icho dost," Sfc— Page 100. 

Were I to ofl*er, or attempt to offer an apology for versifying this form, 
or model of prayer, prescribed by our blessed Saviour to his Apostles, 
on their requesting hun to teach them how to pray, I think I should not 
refer it to a desire to excel others who have made the liki- attempt ; but 
rather to a strong impression made on my mind, not to pass over unno- 
ticed so important a portion of Christian duty, nay, as one observes, 
which is " the whole of man ;"' for the command is, "pray always." 
But ye, when ye pray, say " Our Father," &c. 

Prayer is the converse of the soul with God ; the breath of God in 
man returning to its original." — Homilin pros ton theon. Clem. AlexaU' 
drinus, strom. 7, page 7x?2, Edit. Colon, ivraplified. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 197 

Mr. Matthew Henry in his " Method for Prayer," observes, (in his 
preface,) " Prayer is a principal branch of rehgious worship, which we 
are moved to by the \ery light of nature, and obliged by some of its fun- 
damental laws." He defines it from the Greek Prosmchc, pros-ad-kai- 
Euche — a vow directed to the Lord, and from the Latin by the word 
(votum,) a vow — which he says is used for Prayer, which English word, 
he further says, is too strait, properly signifying petition or request. For 
my part I am contented with the Latin verb Pnccor — I pray, Pnc — be- 
fore, and cor — the heart, i. e., sending forward the heart to God. For 
it is as necessary, if we would pray aright, to pray with the heart, as to 
believe with the heart. 

But if prayer is a ■petition, why not derive it from Pete, I seek — and 
then it will exactly square with our Saviour's direction, " seek, and yc 
shall find." 

St. Austin says, " prayer is the key of Heaven ; for prayer ascends, 
and God's mercy descends ; though the Earth be low, and Heaven high, 
yet God hears the voice of u^an." 

Mr. Henry divides prayer into five parts, viz. Adoration, Confession, 
Petitions, Thanksgiving, and Intercession. 

" Our blessed Saviour," t|-c. — Page 100. 

I have styled this a Scripture acrostic, Greek Akrostikos, — akros the 
top, and stikos a verse, a Poem, or certain number of verses ; whose in- 
itial letters make up some person's name, title, or some particular motto. 
— Bailey. 

" This irorld is like,'" Sff. — Page 101- 

I had it for a considerable while in contemplation to write something; 
that miglit tend to obviate the too general excuse for not breaking off 
from the practice of drinking ardent spirits. This excuse is, that if per- 
sons long in the habit of indulging in the use of distilled liquors, should 
suddenly abstain from them, it would speedily cause their death. — I am 
not a physician, but I have been informed, that by a certain process pur- 
sued for about the space of three months, the English in the East Indies 
effectuallv cure their soldiers of drunkenness ; even though they were 
laboring under delirium tremens. The operation, which I shall not here 
detail, is said to be so severe and disgraceful, that very few require to 
undergo it a second time. The remedy, however, recommended in the 
Substitute, is mild, pleasant, and safe, and may be administered by the 
person to himself; and no one can object to it on the ground of its con- 
taining a portion of the very article, the use of which it is intended to 
supersede, any more than he can object to the use of spring water, be- 
cause, as Doctor Beddoes remarks, it contains a certain portion of ar- 
senic. Neither the high nor the low, the religious nor the irreligious, 
refuse it on account of its possessing this peculiar property ; but on the 
contrary, consider it as not only pleasant to the taste, but nutritious and 
in many instances medicinal, and so use it accordingly. But it is not 
on this substitute, I would solely rely for effecting a cure of this body- 
destroying, soul-killing practice. I would also have the patient use aa 
adjunct substitute. 

R* 



198 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" Add one thing more and I'll maintain, 
You surely will your object gain; 
Pray name it, since success 'twill bring! 
Religion, sir, that is the thing." 

But perhaps it may be siiffgested, that the latter prescription will rare- 
ly, if ever, be attended to. Well, then, let us try conviction, and to that 
Jetnsadd persuasion ; and ifthesefail of producing their intended efiect, 
then tiie Moral Philosopher who asserted that " conviction and persua- 
sion would lead the icill/' is wrong. Resort then must be had to the 
grace of God, which is also a teacher, for " the grace of God which bring- 
eth salvation unto all men, hath appeared, teaching us, that denying un- 
godliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and god- 
ly in this present world," Titus ii. 11, 19. And here observe, the Scrip- 
ture does not say forces, but the term is, teaches ; for as one observes, 
" Grace doth correct, but not destroy. Grace strengthens, but not com- 
pels. Grace makes men able to choose good, but not unable to refuse 
it. For if it were not so, man would not be a voluntary, but a necessary 
Agent ; and wiien we taUe froni man the qualities peculiar to him as man, 
we make him unfit to be an object of rewards and punishment." — E. 
Bird. 

According to the apostle — " What shall we say then ? i. e. what infer- 
ence shall we draw from hence ?" The Scripture presents us with a rea- 
dy answer. " He that being often reproved, hardeneth his heart and stif- 
feneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed and that without remedy." 

The Rev. Mr. Kinkade in his " Bible Doctrine" says, " Intoxicating 
liquors are physical, intellectual, and moral poisons: they destroy the 
health, derange the uiind, and ruin the morals of the wretches who drink 
them." And he adds, — " In ihe UnitPfl States alone, more than two 
thousand, pe.baps ten thousand people lose their lives every year by 
drinking ardent spirits." 

To'murder another is a capital crime ; of how much sorer punishment 
shall that man he counted worthy who is the murderer of himself ? truly 
his punishment will be awful, beyond all hun)an conception, and utterly 
indescribable by mortals. "No murderer hath eternal life abiding in 
him, consequoutly he hath eternal Death abiding in him. 

" For still with his outrageous sin, 
He felt a spark of grace within." 

" Grace," observes one, " is the favorable impression of God on the hu- 
man mind. " Grace, says another is the Mercy of God in finding out 
redemption for mankind, also a disposition of mind, or power to yield 
obedience to the connnands of God." — Bayleij. Grace, Gratia, in The- 
ology, any gift which God confers on men, of his own free liberality, 
and without their having deserved it at his hand, whether such gift re- 
gard the present, or a future life. 

Grace is usually divided into natural, supernatural, habitual, actual, 
eiGcacious, &c. 

" And many good resolves he made, 
But only called in reason a aid," 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 199 

How natural it is, as we say, vviien our sins are set in array against 
us, to begin " to reason with flesli and blood." 

"A kind of second nature flows." 

" A confirmed habit," said the Rev. Walter Monteith, "is a kind of se- 
cond nature." 

" Sam fell this kind of Logic trne." 

The Rev. Mr. Kinkade observes—" Intemperance fills the Prisons, 
crowds the Alms Houses, takes thousands to the gallows, and millions 
to Hell." 

'Tis granted — yet the Christian knows "that man is naturally high mind- 
ed, for when the Gospel comes in power to him, it is employed in cast- 
ing down imagination, and every high thing that exalteih itself against 
the J<nowledge of God. Lowliness is not a plant that grows in the 
field of nature, but is planted by the finger of God in a renewed 
heart, and learned of the lowly Jesus. Vain man would be wise, so he 
accounts himself, and so he would be accounted of by others, though 
man be born like the wild ass's colt. His way is right, because it is his 
own, Prov. xxi. 2. His state is good, because he knows no better, 
Prov. vii. 9. Therefore his Hope is strong and his confidence firm. 
It is another Babel rearetl up against Heaven, aiad shall not fall while the 
powers of darkness can hold it up. The word of God batters it, yet it 
stands. One while, breaches are made in it, but they are quickly repair- 
ed ; at another time, it is all made to shake, but still it keeps up, till eith- 
er God himself by his Spirit cause an earthquake within the man, which 
tumbles it down and leaves not one stone upon another, or Death batter 
it down and raze the foundation of it." Boston's Four-fold State. 

"But I'm resolved," &c. 

Still it was not the gracious resolve of the prodiffal son, "I will arise 
and go to my father." Nevertheless, men's prescriptions, if accompani- 
ed by the blessing of the Lord, may accomplish nnich good, and are not 
always to be rejected on account of their being human. 

But resolutions made in our own strength, will never procure for us 
eternal life. If we would obtain true Christian strength we must seek 
it of the Lord ; and when he impaits it, then, according to the poet, 
we shall be " strong in the strength that God supplies, through His 
eternal Son." St. Paul says, " Christ strengthening me I cau do all 
things." 

" Confessed by all, here was a change." 

A change from nature to grace, 

"And was it thorough," &c. 

Thorough, by itself meansthrongh ; illustrated thus: Thorough Bass, 
in music, that which goes quite through the compositon. I mean simply 
incomplete in all its dififerent stages. 

** And soon into a flame it grew." 



200 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS- 

The poet prays, 

" Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, 

With all Thy quick'ning powers, 
Kindle a. flame of sacred love, 

In these cold hearts of ours." 

Conviction came, it's powerful sway — 
Con — together, and vinco — I overcome. •' 

"In Divinity is the first degree of repentance, i. e. when a penitent is 
convinced of the evil nature of sin, and his own guiltiness." Certainly 
this is enough to cause a person to pray. 

" He just is made," &c. 

Justus— ]nst, and facius — made, or fio-is-it, he becomes. 

" Justification, in theology, that act of grace which renders a man just 
in the sight of God, and admissible to eternal happiness." 

" He doubted not," &c. 

And why should any one doubt when that "nice, trae, and awful dis- 
cerner," the Spirit of the hving God, witnesses with his spirit, that he is^ 
born of God ? as saith the poet, 

" The Spirit answers to the blood. 
And tells me I am boru of God.'' 

The Spirit of God is not uncertain or doubtful ; it is a certain, it is s 
true witness, and "manifested in every breast." 

" He just is made," &c., see page 103. 

" Therefore being justified by Faith, we have peace with God through 
our Lord Jesus Christ, — Romans v. 1. That God is just, can be 
no reason why he should not forgive sin. When God changes a 
sinner and writes his Law on his heart,and makes him love God 
with all his heart, and his neighbour as himself; every attribute of 
the Divine Being harmonizes in his pardon and salvation. Justke is 
satisfied, because the man is made just, and renders to God and man 
the service that Christianity requires of him. Mercy is satisfied, because 
the man has received mercy from God, has the principle of mercy 
planted in his heart, and has become merciful to all his fellow crea- 
tures. Truth, that was trampled on by the Sinner, is pleased with 
his conversion, because by it the man is cleansed from Sin, and made 
holy." — Kinhade. 

" Neither the posssibility nor probability of man'.? purification and sanc- 
tification by the Holy Spirit, can reasonably be doubted ; for first, as 
physical evil, or bodily pain, has no substantial existence of its own, but 
is purely incidental to corporeal nature ; so moral evil is to the soul a 
disorder which it has improperly lapsed into. It is no part of God's- 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 201 

creation, nor hag it any real existence by itself; but is the fallen, defec- 
tive, distempered condition of beings, once created without intempera- 
ture or defect. Evil, therefore, though it be in man, is no constituent 
part of man, but an imperfection adventitious to his nature, which, by 
an all-powerful principle, he may be recovered from, and his nature re- 
stored to a state of fitness for union with his Maker. Secondly — Un- 
created Omnipotence, is certainly more able to cleanse than the crea- 
turely, corrupt and fallen powers of darUness are to defile ; and infinite 
goodness must be as willing and ready to eflect the first, as limited envy 
the last. Did not the Sovereign Lord intend man should be made holy, 
He would not require it, without atfording him the assistance requisite to 
accomplish it, for He enjoins no impossibilities. That He does require 
it, the sacred writings sufiicienily witness — ' God,' saith an Apostolic 
writer, ' hath not called us to uncleanness, but unto holiness,' " 1 Thes. 
iy, 7. — Pliipps. 

" Nor did he shout," &c. 276th line. 

People of different constitutions are differently affected by a similar 
cause. A certain person assured me, that under an affecting sermon, 
he experienced a shivering sensation, as though cold water had been 
poured upon him ; a person of a different temperament would doubt- 
less have shouted, at the top of his voice — Glory ! I heard an officer in 
our army, during the last war, describe the different effects produced on 
the men under his command by the beating of the drum to arms, pre- 
paratory to an engagement with the enemy — some he observed looked 
pale, while the eyes of others seemed starting from their heads — and yet 
we look for a more certain criterion than mere momentary sensations; 
the Scripture mark whereby to judge of the truth of men and things, is 
" by their fruits ye shall know them." 

" The Son had proved his friend in need," 281st line. 

" Come unto me," says the blessed Saviour, "all ye that that labor 
and are heavy laden, audi will give you rest;" — and again — " If the 
Soti shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed ;" and to such He 
says, " Henceforth I call you not servants." &c. John xv. 15. 

The Rev. Mr. Saurin says, "Liberty, I think, may be considered in 
five different points of view. The first regards the understanding. The 
second respects the Will. The third relates to the Conscience. The 
fourth belongs to the conduct, and the fifth to the condition." 

There is, he further observes, something truly astonishing in that com- 
position, which we call man. In him we see an union of two substan- 
ces, between which there is no natural relation, at least, we know none, 
I mean the union of a spiritual soul with a material body. I perceive, 
indeed, a natural connection between the divers faculties of the soul, be- 
tween the faculty of thinking, and that of loving. I perceive, indeed, a 
natural connection between the divers properties of matter, between 
extension and divisibility, and so of the rest. I clearly perceive, that 
because intelligence thinks it must love, and because matter is extended, 
it must be divisible, and so on. But what relation can there subsist be- 
tween a little particle of matter and an immaterial spirit, to render it of 



202 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

necessity, that every thought of the spirit must instantly excite some mo- 
tion in this particle of matter? And how is it, that every motion of this 
particle of matter must excite some idea, or some sensation, in this spirit? 
yet this strange union of body and spirit constitutes man. 

Cod, say some, having brought into existence a creature so excellent 
as an immortal soul, lest it should be dazzled with its own excellence, 
united it to dead matter incapable of ideas and designs. 

" And now we say with pious mind," line 283. 

There are many reasons why a convert should join himself to some body 
of professing Christains; see Malachi iii. 16, and St. Paul directs, " for- 
sake not the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is." 
What should we think of a man, who professes to belong to the Army, 
and on being asked to what company, regiment, or brigade ? he should 
answer — to none. 

" Now all the wise and good rejoice," line 287. 

If there is joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth, why should 
there not be joy among the saints on earth.? 

" United to his elect head," line 286. 

" That Christ is God's elect, appears from Isa. xiii. 1,23; Matt. xii. 
18, 19, 20; 1st Peter ii. 6; Psalms 89, 3d; 1st Peter 2, 3; Psalms 89. 
19 ; 1st Cor. xii. 27 ; Ephs. i. 22, 23 ; Col. i. 18 ; Rom. xii. 5. 

As Christ is the elect head, and the Church His elect body, we may 
safely conclude, that all Christians are elect members of this body; and 
consequently, there must be a great difference between God's chosen, 
or elect ones, and the world, see John xv. 19 ; Luke xviii, 7; Col. iii. 12, 
13 — Kinkade. 

" The tale is true," &c., line 295. 

I know the man I had in my eye, when I wrote the Substitute. He 
is yet in the land of the living, patiently awaiting the moment when his 
Lord shall call him hence from time to eternity. And here, need I apol- 
ogize for so long a note ? if so, then let the Substitute be that apology. 
The importance of the subject, in my estimation has, as it were, drawn 
me along almost insensibly, to the consideration of several Christian vir- 
tues, which I could not think of passing over in silence. If it please the 
Lord, he will cause the effort to prosper. 

" Ok! that remember always" Sfc. — Page 109. 

The second line of this distich, is purely of Scriptural injunction, and 
extends even to the discountenancing of those pious frauds that have been 
practised in a certain Church professing itself to be Christian, ll do not 
read in the Scriptures that Christ practised any frauds to establish his 
elaim to the Messiahship, nor that he ever instructed any of his follow* 
ers that the truth stood in need of any such support. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 203 

" Let prayers ascend," &fc. — Page 109. 
See Note — on our Lord's Prayer. 

" That we, need ice," — Page 109. 

Life — human life, is not only of short duration, but of very uncertain 
continuance. The Poet remarks, 

"Dangers stand thick through all the ground, 

To push us to the tomb ; 
And fierce diseases wait around, 

To hurry mortals home. — Watts. 

According to our excellent Burial service, " Man that is born of a 
woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh 
up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth, as it were a shadow, and 
never continueth in one stay." 

" Resign'd fie goes," Sfc. — Page 110. 

".Death, said the Rev. John McKnight, our old Professor of Moral 
Philosophy at Columbia College, in New- York, is a violation done to 
Nature, and, therefore. Nature shudders at it." 

" But Death must be a penalty, even where it is again; and therefore 
it must meet with some unwillingness; because we willingly sinned, we 
must unwillingly sufl'er. All the faith and reason in the world will not 
make Death to be no penally, and therefore will not take away all un- 
willingness. No man ever reasoned or believed himself in a love of 
pain as such.'' — Baxter. 

Death terminates all the relations that subsist between men in this life. 
But the relation of dependence which subsists between the Creator and 
His creatures, is an eternal relation. That world, into which we enter 
when we die, is a part of His empire, and is as subject to His laws as that 
into which we entered when we were born. During this life the Su- 
preme Governor hath riches and poverty, glory and ignominy, cruel ty- 
rants and clement princes, rains and droughts, raging tempests and 
refreshing breezes, air wholesome and air infected, famine and plenty, 
victories and defeats to render us happy or miserable. After death he 
hath absolution and condemnation ; a tribunal of justice, and a tribunal 
of mercy, Angels and Devils; a river of pleasure, and a lake burning 
with fire and brimstone ; Hell with all its horrors, and Heaven with its 
happiness, to render us happy or miserable as he pleaseth. Death is 
rendered formidable to man by a threefold consideration, and three con- 
siderations of an opposite nature strip him of all his terrors in the eye of 
the believer in Christ. Death is formidable — first, because of the veil 
which conceals from the eyes of the dying person that state which he is 
about to enter. 2d, From remorse of conscience which the recollec- 
tion of past guilt excites. 3d, From the loss of titles, honor, and all oth- 
er earthly possessions. In opposition to these the death of Christ, Ist, 
Removes the veil which conceals futurity, and constitutes an authentic 



204 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

proof of the immortality of tlie sonl. 2d, It is a sacrifice presented to 
Divine Justice for the remission of sins. 3d, It gives us complete assu- 
rance of a blessed eternity. These are the considerations which disarm 
Death of his terror to the dying believer. 

Let us " Recollect tiiat we have a sou! to be saved, an account to ren- 
der, a Hell to shun, a Heaven to gain." — Saurin. 

" A. D. One, eigitt, three, nine," ^c. — Page 110. 

" Time is defined to be the duration of this world," in the which we 
are " so to number our days, as to apply our hearts unto wisdom," for 
we are placed in this state of probation, not merely to govern states, or 
to cultivate arts and sciences, we are placed here to prepare for eternity. 
If therefore we have not directed all our anxieties and exertions, on 
such subjects as these, to the leading object of eternity, we certainly 
have not conformed to the views which the Creator proposed to himself 
in placing us in this economy of expectation and trial. Imagine not 
that we shall be judged according to the ideas we ourselves are pleased 
to form of our vocation. We are under an economy of expectation 
and trial, time is given us to prepare for eternity." — Saurin. 

I composed this piece, principally while travelling the streets in the 
pursuit of my occupation, which is an out-door one, recollecting vJiat 
another year of my short life had pat^sed away and brought me so much 
nearer to that eternity, the realities of which we must all of us, prepar- 
ed or unprepared, be shortly called to prove. 

" Holy and reverend,^' &c. — Page 111. 

For thus saith thejhigli and lofty One that inhabiteth Eternity, whoso 
name is Holy, &c. Isa. xlvii. 15, Of whom also, it is declared that He is 
glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, a God doing wonders. This 
greatest and most glorious of all beings, the moral Governor of the Uni- 
verse, who challenges an especial right and propriety in the services of 
all his creatures, because they are all justly due unto him, hath command- 
ed His creatures saying " Thou shall not take the name of the Lord ihy 
God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who taketh His 
name in vain. The 2d commandment of the Decalogue. 

The Law saith do or avoid this and live. The Gospel not only forbids 
the outward act but also restrains the inward desire and motion towards 
it. The Law saith, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery ; 
nor forswear thyself, &c. The Go.«!pel commands, give not place to 
anger ; thou shalt not lust, swear not at all, &c. In this manner the 
Gospeldestroys not the moral law, but fulfils it, by taking away the ground 
of sinful acts and laying the axe of the Spirit to the root of corruption. — 
Phipps. " Blasphemy, Wtf^feiH, to hurt, and p/tai«(ai, reputation. Curs- 
ing and swearing, vile, reproachful language, tending to the dishonour of 
God." — Bailey. So that both the Law and the Gospel forbid and dis- 
countenance profane swearing. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 205 

" Let Hypocrites assume," Sfc. — Page 111. 

Religion, from Religo, I bind fast ; accordingly, Religion properly 
signifies a bond to bind ; which implies, that a ijerson who is not bound 
or united to Christ by a living faith, of the operation of God, bound or 
knit to real Christians in love, and he who is not, as it were, so bound 
and attached to the fundamental truths of Christianity, as not only to 
believe them but to love and walk in them, is destitute of true Religion, 
and consequently enjoys no blessings thereof. When we consider the 
unsullied purity and absolute perfection of the Divine Nature, and re- 
flect on the imperfection of our own, and the ungrateful returns we 
have made to the goodness of God, we must sink, or be convinced we 
ought to sink, into the deepest Immility and prostration of soul before 
him, and be conscious that it is our duty to repent of a temper and con- 
duct so unworthy of our nature, and so unbecoming our obligations to 
its Author, and to employ every means, especially those prescribed in 
Holy Writ, that may bring us to a right knowledge of that Religion 
wiiich will render us acceptable to God, that will put us in full posses- 
sion of the blessings of that salvation which Jesus Christ, the Soh of 
God, has completed for sinners of the human race, and which salvation 
b revealed and applied to their hearts by the power and grace of the 
Holy Spirit of G«d, which is freely promised to all them that ask it. 

That Religion which inculcates love to Godgand man, to Holiness and 
and Truth, is the Religion recommended throughout the Bible, and dic- 
tated by Christianity. 

On the other hand, that Religion (if it may be so called) which favors 
snperstition and idolatry, profaneness, vice and immorality, which is 
inimical to truth and holiness, and to the peace and happmess of society, 
must be false, and directly opposite to that proposed in the Scriptures 
of the Old and New Testaments, and established by Christ and his Apos- 
tles. 

In proof of the baneful effects of a false Religion, that is not sanction- 
ed by the precepts and laws of Scripture and reason, but is evidently re- 
pugnant to them both, it has been computed that since the year 251, not 
fewer than nine millions seven hundred and thirteen thousand, eight hun- 
dred persons have been burned, racked on the wheel, or otherwise butch- 
ered, by religious bigots and enthusiasts, who, as a celebrated writer re- 
marks of the Jesuits, take their name from Jesus, but their arts from 
Hell. 

Religion is commonly divided into natural and revealed. By natural 
Religion is meant that knowledge, veneration and love of God, and the 
practice of those duties to him, our fellow creatures and ourselves, which 
are discoverable by the right exercise of our rational faculties, from con- 
sidering the nature and perfections of God, and our relation to him and 
to one another. 

And by revealed Religion is meant, natural Religion explained, en- 
forced and enlarged from the express declaration of God himself from 
the mouths or pens of his prophets, &c. — Hoicards Enajdopmlia. 

Religion may be considered in three different views: first, as contain- 
ing doctrines relating to the being and perfections of God, his moral ad- 
ministration of the world, a future state of existence, and particular com- 
munications to mankind by an immediate supernatural revelation. Se- 

s 



206 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

condly, as a rule of life and manners. Thirdly, as the source of certain 
peculiar affections of the mind, which either give pleasure or pain, ac- 
cording to the particular genius and spirit of the Religion that inspires 
them. 

The end and design of Religion, the proper effect and produce of good 
principles; the good fruit of a good tree, the ultimate view, and funda- 
mental intention of all religious truths implanted in men, either by na- 
ture or teaching, is the practice of virtue. For the word Religion, in 
its very nature and original meaning, signifies an obligation upon men 
arising from the reason of things, and from the government of God, to 
do what is just and virtuous and good, to live in a constant habitual 
sense and acknowledgment of God in the practice of universal justice 
and charity towards men, and in a regular sober government of their 
own passions, under a firm persuasion and continual expectation of the 
lighteous distribution of rewards and punishments in their proper 
season, in the eternal judgment of God. This is the foundation of Re- 
ligion, the fundamental doctrine, in ail pltices and at all times, invariable 
and eternal. — Clark. 

I do not say that the foregoing extracts necessarily require any elabo- 
j*ate discussion to prove the orthodoxy of the sentiments therein advanc- 
ed, yet there are some persons who cannot, or who will not view truth 
in the light in which it is presented to their understandings, be it ever 
so clearly or faithfully represenied. 

I will not style them cavillers, but merely suppose them to be actuated 
by conscientious scruples. Should any such persons object to the extracts 
on the ground of their being too speculative, they are referred for a 
plainer exposition of the practical duties they contain to the Scriptures; 
and perhaps this one reference may suffice; it is to be found in the first 
chapter of St. James and at the 27th verse : " Pure Religion and unde- 
filed before God and the Father is this," &c. Should more be required 
let them obey this injunction of our blessed Saviour, "search the Scrip- 
tures," &c. Antinomianism, which sprang up in Germany in the 17th 
century, has had its day ; and probably received its quietus from the writ- 
ings of that celebrated Divine the Rev. John Fletcher, the contempora- 
ry of the Rev. John Wesley. 

The Antinomians held the keeping of Moses' law to be unprofitable 
under the Gospel, and that children are born without sin ; and that good 
works do not further, nor evil hinder, but that Faith alone is sufficient 
for salvation." 

That children are born without sin, seems to be one of the tenets of 
the " people called Quakers, a religious sect that arose in England in the 
time of Cromwell," &c., and they undertake to prove it on this wise: 
" The immortal reasonable soul of man, in every individual, appears to 
be the immediate production of its Creator; for the prophet Zechariah, 
speaking of the great acts of God in creation asserts, that " He formeth 
the spirit of man within him," and in Eccles. xii, 7, we read, upon the 
death of the body, " Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, 
and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." The soul, therefore, 
receiving its existence immediately from the perfection of unchangeable 
purity, can have no original impurity or intemperature in its nature; 
but being immediately and intimately connected with a sensitive body, 
and of itielf unable constantly to withstand the eagerness of the animal 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 207 

passions after gratifications of a carnal nature, is liable to be so influenced 
by them, as to partake with them in their sensual indulgencies. In 
this state the descendants of Adam come into the world unendued with 
that divine life which Adam fell from." — J. Phipps. 

What I principally intended in thisdistich was this, " that true Religion 
is always essentially the same," see John iv. 14. Therefore it cannot be 
altered by the assumption of Hypocrites. 

" If a man die sfiall he live again,^' Sfc. — Page 111. 

Whatever might have been the real intention of pious, patient Job, in 
propounding the inquiry : " If a man die shall he live again ?" it is now 
certain that the question is fully and satisfactorily answered in the affirm- 
ative by the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, which has brought "life 
and immortality to light." 

Man is destined to live again in another state of existence. In this 
present world all live together in one common estate, as mortal beings. 
And though some are righteous, and some are wicked ; yet all are un- 
der sentence of temporal death. The reason assigned by St. Paul for 
this is, " because all are sinners." 

Still, however, there is a difference, even in this life between sinners; 
for though all be equally " prisoners of hope," yet to some their sins are 
forgiven them, while others remain unpardoned. 

The former have complied with the terms prescribed in the Gospel, 
the latter have neglected and refused such compliance, notwithstanding 
those terms are the richest, the freest, and most gratuitous of all terms. 
The Gospel offers life and salvation " without money, without price, and 
without upbraiding;" and in return only requires repentance towards 
Go<! and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, which are his gifts, and are to 
be obtained by asking him for them. And that the penitent " brinpf 
forth fruits meet for repentance." — Now those who have obtained grace, 
that is mercy, have not obtained it because they were better by nature 
than their fellow men, for by nature all are sinners ; but because they 
sought it in the only way in which it can be obtained by any of our fall- 
en race. Not in their own name, nor in their own strength, but in the 
name and in the strength of him who is " mighty to save,",even Jesus, 
a chosen one from among the people, who is able to save to the utter- 
roost all them that come unto God by him. — These are they over whoni 
judgment shall have no power to condemn them, if they prove faithful 
to the grace given them, " because there is no condemnation to them 
that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit." 
And they are new creatures, " for if any man be in Christ he is a new 
creature," " being justified by Faith they have peace with God through 
our Lord Jesus Christ," and the Holj Spirit, the Spirit of the living God, 
works in them the work ofsanctification with power — enabling them to 
" die, to sin and to live to righteousness," and so living, when the last 
enemy, temporal death, shall have performed his office on their bodies, 
their undying spirits shall be taken to the enjoyment of " another and a 
better state of existence than this," 



208 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

" Revive he shall, and in Heaven to reign." 

The sinners, properly so called, and those who liv€ in sin ; thereby 
offending and provoking God by transgressing his law. They are wick- 
ed, impious, ungodly. They practice unrighteousness, and thus they 
give evidence of their being sinners, " because all unrighteousness is 
sin." 1 John v. 17. They love the world and the things that are in the 
world, and therefore the love of the Father is not in them. 1 John ii. 
XV. In consequence of their sins they are hateful to God, see Job xr, 
16. They are carnal, and "to be carnally minded is death," — because 
"the cirnal mind is enmity against God," &e., and therefore must be 
slain, or the sinner must receive " the wages of sin which is death," viz. 
eternal death. 

Passages from Scripture might be quoted almost ad infinitum to prove 
the deplorable condition of sinners, while in their sins and in their blood. 
They are " truly evil beings," and unless quickened from a death in tres- 
passes and in sins, " shall with alt the nations that forget God be turned 
into hell, Psa. ix, 17. This punishment the Justice of God will infficl 
on the finally impenitent and guilty; for God, in giving a description of 
his character to the children of men, hath solemnly assured them, that he 
" will in nowise clear the guilty." 

" But if he shall in his sins expire," &,c. 

While permitted to continue in this life, we possess a mixed state of 
existence; joys and sorrows are mingled in our cup, of which we partir 
cipate alternately — for an excess of either would prove destructive to our 
natural lives. But when death ushers us into a world of disembodied 
spirits, if we are unprepared for the change we must not expect to be re- 
ceived into those pure and unsullied climes of bliss and glory above, 
where nothing that is impure or unholy can ever enter. 

St. John in his delightful description of the " new Jerusalem, "assures 
us that, " there shall in nowise enter into itany thing that defileth, neither 
whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie ; but they which are 
written in the Lamb's book of life. Rev. xxi. 27. Andwhat then will be- 
come of those who are not so written ? He informs us in the last verse 
of the previous chapter, " and whosoever was not found written in the 
book of life was cast into the lake of fire." 

Not one word is here said of Mercy. The Revelation speaks of Jus- 
tice, that Justice which executed "judgment upon all, and convinced all 
the ungodly of all their ungodly deeds, which they, had ungodly commit- 
ted, and all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners had spoken against 
the Lord." St. Jude certainly has reference to the day of Judgment. 

" Now in the world that never shall end," «&c. 

1 . 

The gospel is certainly a dispensation of mercy to mankind, and it 

offers a free pardon to all who truly repent of their sins, and heartily be- 
lieve in the Saviour of the World. It is emphatically good news to the 
fallen progeny of Adam, declaring to them that " now is the accepted 
time and now the day of salvation ; for unto yau a Saviour is born who 
ii Christ the Lord, " and that if they forsake their sins, and turn to. 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 209 

God with full purpose of heart, and endeavour after new obedience, he 
is faithful and just to forgive them their sins, and to cleanse them from 
all unrighteousness." 

Justice, simply considered, is "equity, reasonableness, right, also law." 
The Justice of God is defined to be, that perfection whereby he is infi- 
nitely righteous and just, both in himself and in his proceedings with 
his creatures. Divines distinguish it into remunerative and punitive jus- 
tice. By the former he rewards his creatures, not for any merit of theirs, 
but in consequence of his own gracious promise, James i. 12, and 2d 
Tim. iv. 8. By the latter, viz. punitive or vindictive justice, he indicts 
punishment for any sin committed by men, 2d Thes. i. 6. 

Thus, without entering too far into the subject for our present limits, 
it is evident, that in this life "Justice and Mercy go hand in hand," — 
that is, they harmonize in their operations. The Lord "having mercy 
on whom he will have mercy, or hardening whom he will," by which 
hardening I think we may understand God's permitting those to treasure 
up for themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of his 
righteous judgment, who after their hardness and impenitent heart, des- 
pise the riches of his goodness, and forbearance and long-suffering ; not 
knowing (considering) that bis goodness leadeth them to repentance. 
Rom. ii. 4. 5. 

In this life the wheat and tares grow together. Under this allegory, 
or continued metaphor our blessed Saviour represents the righteous and 
the wicked, and by the mutual growth of the Wheat and the Tares, the 
different relations of life, which are not to be disturbed but by death. 

" Here the wheat and tares together blend," «&c. 

After death those who were despisers and neglecters of the great 
salvation provided for them in time, will suffer for such despite and neg- 
lect, the vengeance of eternal fire. 

" For the time must come when all the dead," &c. 

But in the judgment of "the great day," while the wicked are con- 
demned the righteous shall be acquitted by his justice, because they "be- 
lieved in Christ." 

" And that Justice, sure as Holy Writ," «fec. 

And now what remains but to exhort the sinner to flee from the wrath 
to come, and to lay hold of the only hope set before him in the gospel. 

And what motives shall be urged to persuade him to pursue so desirea- 
ble a course? Shall tliey be drawn from reason? If so, reason says 
you are " formed averse to pain," and therefore you are in pursuit of 
happiness; but you are in error and will certainly miss your mark if you 
pursue it in by and foibiddeii paths: vice leads to misery and not to happi- 
ness, and all vice is founded in error. Or from experience consult your 
past life, compare it with your present feelings, and with your prospects 
beyond the grave. Or shall Scripture be allowed to speak ? Only read 
over carefully " the General Epistle of Jude ;" it is not "a bundle of 
straw," as some have called the General Epistle of James ; and with the 



210 NQTE& ON THE SPECIMENg. 

blessing of the Lord, it may induce you to "seek your chief good," 
which is only to be found " by drawing nigh unto the Lord." And may- 
he so draw you continually to himself by "the cords of his love, as 
with the bands of a man," that your willing feet may move in swift 
obedience to his blessed will. 

Or peruse the thirty-fourth Psalm of David, and there yon will dis- 
cover what it is to be " righteous persons," and what are their privileges, 
and should you obtain the experience of that eminently devoted ser- 
vant of the Lord, you will know that Religion is not a "cunningly de- 
vised fable," and that " wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all- 
her (flowery) paths are peace." 

" Sinner with all excuse away," &c. 

Our blessed Saviour directs us all " to work while it is called to-rfaj^" 
and for this special reason, because "the night of death cometb when no 
man can work." Many people speak against works ; if they mean good 
works, they are Antinomians, persons " who hold doctrines that clearly 
supersede the necessity of good works." But there is one work which 
it would be well for all men to consider indispensable, and therefore not 
to omit the performance of it at their peril, and that is the " working 
out their salvation with fear and trembling," &c. 

" For the world to which we all must go/' &o. 

" Heaven," says the Theologian, "is to be considered as a place as well 
as a state," and for its being so termed expressly, refers to John xiv. 2, 3 ; 
and further, we are assured that it is a place of mexpressible felicity. 
Rev, xxJ. 32. &c. Hell is the place of divine punishment after death. 
Luke xvii. 21. «S:c. 

Now reason is sufficient to convince us that God will not send his 
friends to the latter, nor permit his foes to enter the former place. 

What question then can be raised^on the subject, except it be thelength 
and duration of the torments of the wicked, and the felicity of the right- 
eous ? Can the truth be exceeded by the derision of the Scriptures ? To 
that decision, therefore, we confidently appeal, and it is this : " And these 
ehall go away into everlasting punishment, but ttie righteous into life 
eternal," Matt, xxiii. 26. 

"The will of God," according to the theologian, is taken — first, for 
that which he hath from all eternity determined, which is unchangeable, 
end must certainly come to pass ; this is called his secret will. Second, 
it is taken for what he has prescribed to'us in his word as a rule of duty, 
this is called his revealed will. The human will is that faculty of the 
soul, by which it chooses or refuses any thing offered to it. The nature 
of the will is in itself indisputably free. Let us then, without contro- 
verting the subject, submit our wills to the guidance and direction of him 
who gave them to us, " originally created with the liberty and power to 
do what was pleasing in his sight," and he will gracion.sly restore to us 
that " ability of will to spiritual good, which man lost by the fall." And if 
we are led by his Spirit, "then are we the sons of God, and if sons, 
then heirs of God, and joint heirs with our Lord Jesus Christ." What 
asore can we reasonably desire either for this life or the life to come 1 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 211i 

" For God hath a will above all wills," &c. 

ALL WILLS ARE RIGHT IN THE NEW JBRUSALEM'. 

Then let the will of m'n be free, 

To Heaven alone confined; 
Unrighteousness the world shall flee, 

And saved be all mankind.. 

But this event shall not arrive,. 

Till earth and fJeavens new, 
Where sin and wickedness now thrive, 

Shall stand confess d to view. 

All hail the glorious happy hour, 

Heaven kindly grant it speed ; 
When he who sits enthroned iapowV,. 

Shall all make new indeed; 

The Lamb — his bridal city this. 

The city fair and bright. 
Fills with unutterable bliss; 
* There every will is right. — KeL ' 

"Some say of evil money is," &c. — Page 111. 

The frequency of hearing the observation, " money is the root ofaU' 
evil" induced me to compose this distich. 

St. Paul in the 6th chapter of his Epistle to Timothy, his son in the 
Gospel, treating on " the great gain of godliness," in the 10th verse of 
that chapter, observes, " For the love of money is the root of all evil." 

The term or expresiion " love of money," in my Greek Testanaenf, 
" Juxta exemplar Joannis millii," is comprised in the compound word 
" Philarguria," which Schrevelius renders aran^ia, avarice — from philos 
amicus, a friend or lever, and arguros, argentum, which, according to 
Ainsworth, in its primary signification means, properly, silver in the mass,, 
bullion ; 2nd, all things made thereof; 3d, coin, or money, made there- 
of; which word jnonei/, the Latins called iiummus, or numns, and also 
moncta, because of the stamp or impression upon money, which ancient- 
ly was the effigy <>r likeness of some god, or goddess, that looking up- 
on it, they might be put in mind of the Deity. Hence, doubtless, "mon- 
etalis, a moneyer — a usurer — lucro inhians — a person gaping after gain. 

But I will not here undertake to account for the otigin of idolatry, 
philologically ; as this might lend to much unprofitable speculation. 
Idolatry is defined to be " the worship of idols, or the act of ascribing 
to things and persons, properties which are peculiar to God alone." 

Idolatry has been divided into metaphorical uud proper. By metaphor- 
ical idolatry, is meant that inordinate love of riches, honors and bodily 
pleasures, whereby the passions and appetites of men are made supe- 
rior to the will of God; man, by so doing, making a god of himself and 
his sen.'iual temper. Froper idolatry is giving the divine honor to anoth- 
er. The objects or idols of that honor which are given, are either ^er* 
sonal, i. e., the idolatrous themselves, who become their own statues; or 



212 NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS. 

internal, as false ideas, which are set up in the fancy instead of God, such 
as fancying God lo be light, flame, matter, «&c., only here the sense be- 
ing internal, the scandal of the sin is thereby abated ; or external, as the 
worshipping of angels, the sun, stars, animals, &c. — Buck's T. D. 

That very learned prelate, M. Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, &c., thus ac- 
counts for the origin of idolatry. " The spirit who hail beguiled the first 
man, tasted now the fruit of his seduction, and beheld the complete ef- 
fects of his saying, ye shall be as gods. From the moment he uttered it, 
he designed to confound in man the idea of God, with that of the crea- 
ture, and to divide a name whose majesty consists in being incommuni- 
cable. His scheme succeeded. Men subjected themselves to the tyranny 
of their senses ; the senses decided every thing, and made, in spite of 
reason, all the gods that were adored upon earth." — Universal History^ 
page 138. 

But the love of money, which comes under the head of metaphorical idol- 
atrtj, must certainly have its origin in covetous7iess, which is a vice forbid- 
den in the decalogue, " Thou shalt not covet," &c. 

" That man is formed," &c. — Page 113. 

This piece or epithalamium, was composed at the request of a friend, 
for two young persons who have since become " man and wife," — and 
have removed to that part of the country, to which the husband be- 
longs. This friend represented them as both being pious ; as such may 
they continue during their stay in this world, and unceasingly test the ac- 
curacy of the motto, that, 

"Congenial souls alone can prove, 

The pure delights of wedded love." — Kel. 

" Stiaviter in Modo," S^c. — Page 114. 

Some people have so high an opinion of their own consequence, that 
they cannot condescend to treat an inferior even with common civility. 
This is a sure indication of pride, and pride and meanness always go 
together ; a proud man is a mean man. But, says Sterne, " pride was 
not made for man," and therefore we may conclude that man was not 
made for pride. The Apostle Paul directs, " mind not higii things, but 
condescend to men of low estate." Besides, the inferior in point of for- 
tune may be decided by the superior in the eyes of both God and all truly 
upright men. Firmness of character in the performance of whatever is 
right and proper is highly estimable, and gives proof that reliance may 
be placed on, and confidence reposed in the person by whom it is exer- 
cised. 

" In every state," Sfc. — Page 115. 

Moderation is the state of keeping a due medium between extremes, 
calmness, temperance or equanimity. It is sometimes used with refer- 
ence to our opinions, Rom. xxii. 3_; but in general it respects our con- 



NOTES ON THE SPECIMENS, 218 

duct in tliat state which comes under the description of ease or prosperi- 
ty, and ought to take place in our wishes, pursuits, expectations, pleasures 
and passions." 

" Jesus Christ, the Father's Son," ^c— Page 115. 

" Behold I stand at the door and knock, if any man hear my voice 
and will open the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and 
he with me," Rev. iii. 20. According to " exposition of Christian doc- 
trines of the Moravians," the dam is now broken down by Christ, which 
prevented the stream of the loving-kindness and grace of God from be- 
ing poured outupon us." Let us beware, therefore, how we bar Christ 
out of our hearts by unbelief. 

Oh that ire mny to the end, 
Faithfully on him depend. — Kcl. 

Christ's standing at the door, says Mr. Phipps, " is his wonderful con- 
descension, patience and long forbearance, in waiting on the soul of man, 
as for an entrance : that as he is a rational creature, he may be prevailed 
with, willingly to open his heart to the Redeemer and receive him. He 
knocks, or calls in spirit by influencing thesoul, in its seasons of quietude, 
so as to e-xcite inclinations and desires towards good, and also at other 
times, by distressing it with the painful sensations of guilt and remorse 
for sinful pursuits and practices; — and man must receive him by 
resigning his attachment to self, and the propensities of sense, and hum- 
bly adhering to the voice or present manifestations of the Spirit. 

And the Lord comes in and sups with man, and makes him a partaker 
of his supper. When the spirit of Christ is received by the soul in faith, 
love, and due submission, he proceeds by degrees to set it at liberty from 
the bondage of corruption, for where the Spirit of the Lord is (in pos- 
session) there is liberty," 2d Cor. iii. 17 ; and when he has brought the 
soul to a proper degree of pacification, he sheds the comfort of his love 
into it ; and makes it a partaker of the communion of saints, which ia 
inward and spiritual. This is the true supper of the Lord. He who par- 
ticipates of this, discerns and tastes the Lord's spiritual body, and experir 
ences it to be " meat indeed, and his blood to he drink indeed." 

I shall conclude this note by observing, that during the seven years I 
was Librarian at the Parsonage House, next door to the old MethodisI 
Church in John-street, I made many valuable extracts from the books in 
my charge ; which of themselves, nearly fill my common-place book of 
many pages. But though I cannot insert them all in my notes, yet I 
trust the following extract will not prove unacceptable to my religious 
readers. 

Christ's dying exclamation. — " / thirst." 

I thrist, the Prince of heaven expiring cries,. 
I thirst, and lifts hie agonizing eyes ; 



214 NOTES ON THE FRAGMENTS 

O, drink my spouse, and satiate thy call, 

Though the sad cup embitter'd tastes with gall; 

Yet drink my spouse, to Heaven's high will resign'd, 

And be the health, "Salvation to mankind." — Ar)ne7iian Magazine. 

" How strange seem, the scenes," <^c. — Page 117. 

I composed this piece as a finale or conclasion to my Specimens. 

It may be deemed by some irregular, but if it was not in my power to 
make it better, why then it was my misfortune, and I must request my 
readers to take " the will for the deed." 

Perhaps I may never trouble the public to travel through another book 
of Specimens of any description. 



NOTES ON THE FRAGMENTS. 

" As onward in life's rugged," &c. — Page 120. 

From the title of this intended to be, lengthy piece, it might be sup- 
posed that I proposed essaying to write an Epic Poem. Whether the 
subject vk-ould warraut such an undertaking, I ana not at present exactly 
prepared to assert. 

It is true that as far as I hare proceeded in my intention to exhibit my 
improved plan of English elementary teaching, ray piece is Epikos, 
Epic, because it consists of Heroic or Hexameter verse. But this much 
might be affirmed of all poems consisting of ten syllables to each line. 
" An Epic Poem, however, has anotlier characterestic ; and requires al- 
ways to have for its subject a Hero, or some great person." Yet this 
much I feel myself warranted in asserting — hypotheticaliy by the by — 
that if an English elementary teacher, " is really a Hero or some great 
person," then the Scholiad may justly claim, when completed, to be en- 
titled an Epic Poem. 

My design, however, was simply to show the superiority of my plan 
Over the old fashioned one, on which I had been previously teaching. 
I think it not necessary here to detail this plan. Suffice it to say it gave 
entire satisfaction to my employers, who intrusted two hundred and ten 
scholars to my tuition, whom I taught with only the assistance of my sis- 
ter Phebe, for the smaller children, she being then about eighteen years 
of age. 

During my stay at Albany, I gave my plan to Mr. Walter Badger, to 
whose school I sent my children. He assured me it succeeded to admi- 
ration, and that his school room was crowded to overflowing. 

The care of providing for my family, prevented me from finishing the 
Scholiad, and so it became of necessity a Fragment. 

" To feast his two eyes," cfc. — Page 128. 

This piece has remained so long in my School Journal, that I have 
forgotten my original intention in commencing it, as well as the reason 



NOTES ON THE FRAGMENTS. Jl5 

that induced me to leave it in its present unfinished state. I think it 
probable, I had it in contemplation to describe the interior of the Arsen- 
al. I had often visited this pubUc store-house of Arms ; and the Gener- 
al, better known as Colonel Piatt, was particularly friendly to me, so that 
I could readily obtain the access necessary to facilitate my desire. But 
as it is unfinished, and though as such I have given it, yet I think it might 
afford materials for the composition of a Poem both interesting and 
amusing ; particularly to young men who are possessed of a "military 
turn." 

" A bark from Columbia," SfC. — Page 123. 

In this piece I intended a description of the "shipwreck" of the Bark 
Commerce, commanded by Captain James Riley, and which occurred 
^ome twenty-eight years ago. Captain Riley gave a relation of this fact, 
\Vith its consequent circumstances, in a publication styled '^ An authen- 
tic narrative of," &c. At the time of the publication of this work, I was 
well acquainted with its contents, having, in conjunction with Mr. Bleeck- 
er, the Examiner in Chancery, assisted the Captain in its diction ; be- 
sides, he had presented me with one of his books. But unfortunately, 
I lost it, either by loaning it, or in some other way which I have now 
forgotten, and when I came to the place where I have stopped, I could 
go no further, neither could I procure another book without purchas- 
ing it, and so the piece remained unfinished. 

" Then we'll pledge Swara's Consul," &c. 

William Willshire, Esq., was Consul at Mogadore, and released the 
Captain and his companions from slavery, by purchasing them from their 
masters, the Arabs. 

The piece was intended for a song, and any person who has a voice 
for singing, may sing it to the tune called " my dog and my gun." 

" Thy Swiss friend no more," &c. 

The name of his vessel was the " William Tell," and onboard of her 
I understand he died on his homeward bound voyage. 

" His ponderous tread," &c. 

Captain Riley was a large man. He states in his narrative that in his 
younger days, he " stood six feet two inches," — exactly the height of 
General Washington, in his youthful days, according to his biography. 

" But why Bwear an oath," &c. 

I heard him swear he never would go to sea again. Why he altered 
his mind, as I never asked him, I cannot tell. 



216 NOTES ON THE FRAGMENTS. 

" God nothing owes to fallen man," &c. — Page 124. 

Though this might, perhaps, pass for a finished piece, yet I have thought 
proper to in.<ert it among the Fragments. I might have entered more 
extensively into the subject ; the tJeld is ample, I had almost said bound- 
less. Yet I surrender it to some more talented poet, who may, if he 
pleases, prosecute it to an Epic Poem, and entitle it the " Proseuchiad." 

" We're fallen on evil days," Sfc. — Page 125. 

I 'believe I only intended when I elected Reform as a subject to write 
upon, to consider it merely in the lightof retrenchment in expenditures in 
superfluous articles, in wearing apparel, equipage, and certain other phys- 
ical ef ce<ras. But when I found the theme was susceptible of still further 
progression, and that my lucubrations might be so extended as to embrace 
both mind and matter, the prospect of a successful termination wearied 
niy mind, and like the Sculptor, abstcnui i. e. — I condemned it to the de- 
partment of Fragments, and there it must remain. 

" A day will come," dj'c. — Page 126. 

As I commenced the " Specimens" with what might be termed levior a, 
or lighter, so I was minded to end them with graviora or weightier mat- 
ter, and what subject, thought I, so appropriate to my purpose as that all 
absorbing one " the Day of Judgment." I had not, however, proceeded 
very far in the prosecution of my design when I accidentally opened the 
second volume of Henry Kirk White's poems, and at page 144 of Bed- 
lington and Ewer's Boston edition, 1H23, my attention was arrested by the 
following critical note on his " Chrisliad," a Divine poem. " This was 
the work which Henry had most at heart. His riper judgment would 
probably have perceived that the subject was ill chosen. What is said so 
well in the Censura Literaiia, of all scriptual subjects for narrative poetry, 
applies peculiarly to this. ' Any thing taken from it leaves the story im- 
perfect ; any thing added to it disgusts, and almost shocks us as impious. 
As Omar said of the Alexandrian Library, we may say of such writings, 
if they contain only what is in the scriptures they are superfluous ; if what 
is not in them they are false.' " Discovering myself to be in the same pre- 
dicament as this highly talented young man, I deem it advisable to dis- 
continue the piece, and to consign what 1 had already written to the de- 
partment of " Fragments." 

Should my readers discover that any other of my Compositions deserve 
the aforementioned censure, all that remains for me to urge as an apol- 
ogy is, 

" I only this in my defence can say, 

I read the caution at too late a day," — Kel. 

" Faithful, well done," &,c., line 26. 

And does such vast, such momentous importance attach itself to one 
eingle qualified word ? " Words (says the Rev. Wm. Burkett, the Coia- 



NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 817 

mentator,) are physically transient, but morally permanent." " Worda 
(says the Annotator of Claude) may be used iu a literal, metonymical, 
popular, theological and juridical sense." 

In the latter sense, will be the sentence passed on the righteous and 
the wicked in " Tfic Day of Judgment," it will be juridical, it will b« 
Jinal and eternal. 



NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 

" Man by his strength of spirit may," 8fc. — Page 129. 

The prophet Nathan said unto King David, " Thou art the man," and 
how his spirit was affected by the severe and pointed reproof of the 
prophet, may be known by perusing his fifty-first Fsalm, q. v., which 
e«e. 

i* Satan though he," ^c— Page 129. 

Without searching the Scripture for proof of Satan being a deceiver 
&c. perhaps the following account given of his character by the Moravian 
brethren will be sufficient " in hoc loco" in this place. "No spirit was 
created evil ; for God can oreate nothing that in itself is evil. But the 
Devil and his adherents abode not in the truth, i. e. in the holiness theit 
Greater endued them with, Jno. viii. 48 : For the Devil and his angela 
left their own habitation, and their principality, which means their glori- 
ous state, Jude, 6th verse, and by their sin, Jno. iii. 8, drew a heavy judg- 
ment down upon themselves, 2d Pet. ii. 4. The Dragon is called Satan, 
because he is the enemy of all good, — the Devil, because he delights in 
lies, deceit and accusation, — the old Serpent, because he beguiled Eva 
with his subtlety, 2d Cor. xi. 3. Therefore also Christ calls him a murderer 
from the beginning, for he plunged our first parents into death ; and also 
the father of lies, because he imposed a lie upon our first parents, tellings 
them that they surely should not die, but be like God, if they would eatjof 
the forbidden fruit. Jno. viii. 44. 

But a period is determined on by the eternal mind.'when " the Devil 
who deceived them, shall be cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, 
where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day 
and night, for ever and ever," Rev. xx, 10. 

" That he intends to tell you," — Page 131. 

May be considered as a part of" leisure hours poetically employed," 
and merely extracted from some of my poetry which I would not 
preeent asawbole. 



»18 NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 

" Suffer on and out your hour," Sfc. — Page 133. 

" Patience is a virtue enabling to bear affliction and pain with calm- 
ness of mind." — Bailey. 

Or, " that cahn and unruffled temper with which a good man bears 
the evils of life." — Buck. 

In every circumstance of life no virtue is more important both to duty 
and to happiness." — Ibid. 

" Christian patience is essentially different from insensibility, whether 
natural, artificial or acquired." — Mason. 

For further information on the subject of patience, the reader is refer- 
red to " Buck's Theological Dictionary," page 429, Woodworth's Phil- 
adelphia Edition, lb21. This is a most valuable work, and were itmore 
generally read and appealed to, it would doubtless prove the means of 
preventing many unnecessary altercations in the Christian world. 

" To think aright, much more," &c. — Page 134. 

" Truth, a term used in opposition to falsehood, and applied to pro- 
positions which answer or accord to the nature and reality of the thing 
whereof something is affirmed or denied. Natural, or physical truth, 
is said to be the agreement of our sentiments with the nature of things. 
Moral truth is the conformity of our words and actions to our senti- 
ments. Evangelical or gospel truth is taken for Christ, the Doctrines, 
of the Gospel, substance or reality, in opposition to the shadows and 
ceremonies of the law. John i. 17. For this truth we ought to be sin- 
cere in seeking, zealous in defending, and active in propagating ; highly 
to prize it, constantly to rejoice in it, and uniformly to be obedient to it." 

"Emblem oftlie lily fair," H^c. — Page 134. 

This sonnet I commenced at a very early period of my life, and sup- 
posing I had an equal right with other poets to choose a mistress for my- 
self, I at length brought it to such a conclusion as pleased myself; wheth- 
er it did her or not, I cannot say, as I have forgotten who she was, and 
all about her. 

" For if politeness," Sfc. — Page 134. 

" Politeness," I think, a certain Author observes, " is baaed on, and 
IS the exercise of the principle of good sense." 

" Politeness, genuine politeness," observes another Author, " is a com- 
bination of discretion, civility, complaisance, circumspection and mo- 
desty, accompanied with an agreeable air, which expands itself upon 
whatever you say or do." 

Even religion itself, it would appear, is not sufficient to excuse a per- 
son from the exercise of politeness. I have heard it asserted from the 
pulpit, that religion does not prevent a man from being a gentleman ; 
and one minister, in my own hearing, proved this assertion by a quota- 
tion from the 14th verse of the 7th chapter of the " Revelations," where 
St. John answers the Elder, " and 1 said unto him, Sir, thou knoweet." 



NOTFS ON THE ANAT.F.DTA. 219 

Aftfti" this, no more I presume, neefl he urged in proof of the necessity 
of politeness to the well being, nay, to the very existence of society. 

" Wotddst thou of thy whole duty," Sfc. — Page 135. 

The Scripture assures us, that " to fear God and to keep his com- 
mandments is the whole duty of man." It is therefore not only the duty 
but the interest of man to acquaint himself with the commands of his 
Maker, and to keep them as a rational, intelligent and an accountable 
creature, and to pray him, continually, to put his fear in his heart, and 
his fear before his eyes, that he may live in his [ear and die in his favor. 

" The toll-man," ^-c— Page 135. 

On my first visit to Philadelphia, in company with my brother-in-law, 
I asked the — as we call him in New-York — ferry-master, what was the 
fare? He answered me two cents. I handed them to him, when, sliding 
them apart with his thumb and finger, a sixpenny, or according to Phil- 
adelphian denomination, a five, pronounced fippenny bit, made its ap^ 
pearance, " here," said he, handing it to me, " you meant to cheat me, 
did you?" Though I have never seen him since, I cannot, however, 
help considering him an honest man. 

" Sinners pray," Sec. — Page 135. 

See 2d Peter, 3d chapter, 9th verse, and also the 7th verse of the 
same chapter, and let us ask ourselves what construction we ought to 
put on the latter clause of this verse. " The day of Judgment and per- 
dition, i. e., utter ruin and destruction oi ungodly men T 

" Ladies and Gentlemen," Sfc. — Page 136. 

All I have to say in relation to this piece is, that I composed it at the 
request of a particular friend, for the purpose mentioned in the heading. 

" M^hat then, do all the good," 8fc. — Page 139. 

" There is always life for a living man," was a favorite expression of 
an old lady, an acquaintance of mine. By which she meant to be un- 
der«t«od that every industrious man might gain ahvelihood by his labor. 

" In vain you fly," i^c.-^Page 139. 

Ridicule is " that which is ridiculous, jest, mockery, laughing-stock." 
Which of these appellations does truth deserve ? " There is no beauty," 
says the moral philosopher, " where there is no truth," and so we may say 
of religion ; and a certain Author observes that " it is a most odious and 
contemptible character, that of playing the wit at the expense of religion, 
sad things sacred ; such as talk jestingly of mysteries they ought to rev* 



320 NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 

erence, don't so much discoTer the beauty of their parts, as the deformity 
of their morals." 

Truth, according to Mr. Locke, " is the joining or separating of signs, 
as the things signified by them do agree or disagree with one another." 
Whatever therefore you may think of testing truth by, let it not be by 
ridicule, always remembering the old adage, that " ridicule is not the teBl 
of truth." 

" Wit, though stinging," Sfc. — Page 139. 

" Wit, one of the faculties of the rational soul, genius, fancy, aptnesa 
for any thing, cunningness." French, Esprit, spirit. Latin, Solertia, 
among other senses, craftiness, subtlety, policy, cunning. " Judgment, 
the discerning faculty, reason, opinion, prudence. 

" Observe all objects." 8fc. — Page 139. 

Synthesis — Greek — Sun, con — together, and tethaimi — pono, I pnt, ot 
place. Analysis, Ana— re-rursus vel sursum, again, and luo-solvo — I dis- 
solve. Synthesis is putting together, and Analysis, taking apart. 

" Idlers great critics are," 8fc. — Page 139. 

" Idle persons are those who neither live to God, to man, nor to them- 
selves." First, they answer not the end for which they were brought in- 
to being; secondly, they benefit not their fellow creatures around them ; 
thirdly, they have no true pleasure, for he that knows not how to labor, 
knows not how to enjoy. In fine, the idle mac is in every view both 
foolish and criminal ; for having ence tainted the soul, it leaves no part 
of it sound ; and at the same time gives not those alarms lu cuuBbicuue, 
which the eruption of bolder and fiercer emotions often oceasion. " Their 
pretensions to criticism, doubtless originate in envy ; the labors of oth- 
ers being a reproof to their own indolence. The old adage, however, 
directs to "let envy alone and it will punish itself." " Envy is uneasiness 
at the success of another." 

" llie human heart," Sfc. — Page 140. 

Depravity is defined to be corruption, a change from perfection to 
imperfectioB. " The heart of man," says the Divine, is naturally, con- 
stantly, universally, inexpressibly, openly, and evidently depraved, and 
inclined to evil," jer. xyii. 9. It requires a divine power to renovate 
it, and render it susceptible of right impressions, Jer. xxiv. 7. When 
thus renovated the efl"ects will be seen in the temper, conversation and 
conduct at large. 

Hardness of heart is that state in which a sinner is inclined to, and ac- 
tually goes on in rebellion against God. The work of sanctification sets 
the heart right by giving it a new bent and inclination. 



NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 291 

" JfTiile man regards the outward show," &c. — Page 140. 

" Motive is that which moves, excites or invites the mind to action. 
It may be one thing singly, or many things conjointly. Some call it a 
faculty of the soul by which we pursue good and avoid evil." '• Action 
is an act, deed or feat." If the motives are so far right as to produce 
right actions, they constitute a person righteous: for says an Apostle, 
(John,) " He that doeth righteousness is righteous," &c. 

" Jf betting nothing," 8fc. — Page 141. 

" Betting is to lay wagers." Wagers, a mutual stipulation between two 
persons to forfeit or pay a sum of money, &c., on condition a thing in 
dispute be or be not asserted or effected. Though all who bet, or lay wa- 
gers, arejnot professed gamesters; yet, in so doing, they imitate the prac- 
tice of aleatores or dice-players, gamesters, gamblers, blacklegs, &c. Be- 
sides it is not the bet or wager that decides the effect, but the effect the 
wager, *and therefore, betting or wagering may with propriety be de- 
nominated gambling, and who covets the appellation of a gambler? 

" Fiat Juslitia," Sfc. — Page 141. 
"Justice is equity, reasonableness, right, law." 

" Vox et PrcBterea Nihil," Sfc. — Page 141. 

Perhaps the author of this motto, " had in his eye" some one who 
was in the habit of making large promises and performing none of them. 
If io, the old adage may well apply to him : 

"A man of words and not of deeds, 
Is like a garden full of weeds." 

" For thee, New-York," Sfc.—Page 142. 

Early in the month of May, 1812, I moved with my family to Herki- 
mer, on the ridge, where I took charge of the Village Academy, and 
taught for one quarter ; but the war breaking out in June following, 
it broke up my school. The next year I came to Albany, where I re- 
mained in the employ of his Excellency, the Governor, until the peace 
of 1815. This distich shows the strong desire I felt to return to the placet 
where I had spent so many previous years of my life. 

" When at my book," 8fc. — Page 142. 

Every body is so well apprised that this arises from some imperfection 
or derangement of the wick, that it needs no explanation. The only 
mystery to be solved is, how the forks can affect the candle so as to 
remedy the evil ? The reason was once assigned to me by the Rev. 
John McNeise, but as thirty years have since elapsed, it has escaped mf 
memory. 



223 NOTES ON THE ANALECTA. 

"/■je on the Painter," Sfc. — Page 142. 

I have been informed thai the French portrait painters never repre- 
■ent their subjects as calvi, or bald headed, and that if they are so really, 
they always have the generosity to make them a present of a wig. 

" The Christian's hope," ^-c— Page 142. 

To hope, ia to expect with desire ; hope is expectation, trust, affiance. 
" The Gospeel revlation," says Mr. Baxter, "is the clear revelation of our 
hope." He adds, " that the Spirit is given to all true believers is evident 
by its effects; and that they live upon the hopes of a better life, and their 
heavenly interest overrules the opposite interest of this world. In or- 
der to which they live under the conduct of Divine authority, and to 
obey and please God, is the great business of their lives," &c. 

" Our children when young," Sfc. — Page 143. 

It is not impossible but that the old man might have spoken from sad 
experience. He might have brought up children, who at riper years 
might have disappointed his fondest expectations. And though this 
were not his own individual case, still he might have uttered this pathetic 
exclamation in view of the conduct of the children of his neighbors, his 
acquaintances, his friends, or his relations. 

It is a commanded duty to bring up our children in the nurture and 
admonition of the Lord, Eph. 6th chapter and 4th verse, yet how often 
do they frustrate our best endeavors, by rejecting our counsels, and 
following the evil advice of strangers. Now the Scripture informs us 
that "evil communication corrupts good manners," and the communi- 
cation is calculated to produce not only a partial but a general corrup- 
tion; so that it may be pronounced of those noble powers and faculties 
of soul and body which were bestowed for nobler purposes, that they are 
at length, " all sacrificed at the shrine of low sensuality." 

And along with " bad company, comes almost certainly the evil of in- 
toxication." 

I asked theChaplainof the Islands in our Bay, not long since, a Scotch- 
man, a plain blunt man, what he discovered to be the prevailing cause 
of the enlistment of so many young men in our army. His answer was 
■"Rum and bad company." Evidently including by his remark under 
the general head of" Bum," all liquors which produce drunkenness. 

" Drunkenness is defined to be intoxication with strong liquor. It is 
either actual or habitual, just as it is one thing to be drunk, and anoth- 
er to be a drunkard. The evil of drunkenness appears in the following 
bad effects. 1st, it betrays most constitutions either to extravagance of 
anger, or sins of lewdness ; 2d, it disqualifies men for the active duties 
of their station, both by the temporary disorder of their faculties, and at 
length by a constant incapacity and stupefaction ; 3d, it is attended with 
expense which can often be ill spared ; 4th, it is sure to occasion unea- 
siness in the family of the drunkard ; 5th, it shortens life ; 6th, it is a most 
awful example to others ; 7th, it is hardly ever cured ; 8th it is a viola- 
tion of God'a word ; Prov. xx. 1, Ephs. v. 18, Rom. xiii. 13. 



•=* 



NOTES ON THE LIFE OF &c. 223 

" The appetite for liquor, appears to me," says Paley, " to be almost 
always acquired. One proof of which is that it is apt to return only at 
particular times and places, as after dinner, in the evening, on the mar- 
ket day, in such a company, in such a tavern." "How careful then should 
we be, lest we form habits of this kind, or choose company who are ad- 
dicted to it ; how cautious and circumspect should we act, that we be not 
found guilty of a sin which degrades human nature, banishes reason, in- 
sults God, and exposes us to the greatest evils." — Bvck's Theological Die- 
tionary ; and I may add, 9th, it persecutes the Church itself, for 

Where'er a mansion for the Lord is built, 

Wherein to show poor fallen man his guilt; 

There Satan rears an edifice of sin, 

And on the sign behold, " Rum sold within ;" 

No more, O Rum, shall war his claim maintain. 

He boasts his thousands, thou hast millions slain." — Kel. 

"Here's Uncle Sam," 8fC. — Page 143. 

I hope our Country may always enjoy that liberty which is without 
licentiousness, and that the sappers and miners of tyranny and oppres- 
sion may always be frustrated in their designs to make inroads into iti 
present healthy Constitution. 



NOTES ON THE AUTHOR'S LIFE. 

"When I commenced writing the brief history of my life, I had no inten- 
tion of finishing it with notes. But a certain friend of mine to whom I 
Bubmitted it for perusal, pronounced it to be a "meager production." 
I attempted to obviate this judgment passed on my history, on the ground 
of expediency. He tacitly acquiesced. But his decision, unretracted, has 
pursued me ever since like Banco's ghost, and induced me to explain some 
©ccurrences which took place during my life that otherwise would have 
been forgotten by some, and perhaps never known to others of my numer- 
ous subscribers. 

But before I proceed to execute my present intention I would be allowed 
to make this preliminary or general observation on the whole of my life, 
viz. that it has been an almost continued succession of prosperity or adver- 
eity, of elevation or depression. 

I do not offer this as any new or wonderful discovery of my own, by 
which mankind are to be unusally illuminated, I would merely be under- 
stood as thereby suggesting the importance of taking this observation into 
consideration in forming our estimate of any particular character or even of 
our own. You have decided perhaps that he should have acted otherwise, 
and why l.because he knew better : granted ; but had you at the same time 
the candor to take circumstances into the account, or did you forget that old 
.*' child of experience," which assures us that " circumstances alter cases V 



224 NOTES ON THE LIFE OF &c. 

Doubtless, if we were thus careful we should avoid giving any rash or 
uncharitable judgment against our fellow men, and commit our intended 
judgments to the decision of Him who "judgeth righteous judgment." 

But 1 will not insist further on this point; the perusal of my life, 
meager as it may be, will I am persuaded abundantly satisfy every read- 
er of the correctness of my preliminary observations. 

The first circumstance I would explain, which otherwise might ap- 
pear obscure in my life, is the motive that induced my uncle to take me 
from College and to remove to New-Jersey. ItwaseAff^riM,i. e. vexation 
&c. or that he was out of humor. Yes, he was wonderfully vexed at 
and out of humor with the conduct of a certain individual, vt-ho de- 
frauded him of a large sura of money, by feigning to be crazy, and so I, 
innocent, unoffending I, was defrauded of eighteen months of continu- 
ous Collegiate instruction in the class to which I originally belonged. 
To be more explicit, somewhere in or about the year 1792 the citizens 
of New-York were seized with the mania for speculating in the rights 
of Revolutionary soldiers, which rights were, I think, denominated 
" Scrip," the precise meaning of which I am not Speculator enough to 
define, Bailey calls it a budget, or bag ; a little piece, perhaps an abbre- 
viation of scriptura, a writing. 

Well, such bargains, sales, and transfers were made at the Tontine Cof- 
fee house, in Wall-street, and so many I. O. U's were bandied about, 
that hundreds of persons who were poor, say to day, were rich to-mor- 
row, and so vice versa. My uncle too must needs dabble'in these ; al- 
luring, bewitching, and enriching "Scrips;" for a while he succeeded, 
but at length a certain dealer in the said precious article (since dead, and 
gone to his reward) failed in the performance of his contract with oiy 
uncle, being advised, as was said at the time, by his physicians to feign 
himself crazy, by which manceuver my uncle lost a considerable sum of 
money, the precise amount of which I never knew to a certainty. Hia 
eyes being thus opened to the iniquity practised by the " Scrip jobbers" 
of the day, in disgust he quitted New- York, and returned to his native 
place New-Jersey, for a season, and there remained until the Scrip 
mania had subsided, when he returned to New-York, and applied him- 
self to a regular.'sober, honest business, the business of buying and sell- 
ing salt, in Front-street, near'Coenties-slip. Should any of my young 
readers be anxious to be further informed on the subject of the famous 
" Scrip speculation," there are old men enough now living in New-York 
from whom they can obtain far more accurate information than can be 
furnished them'bythe Author. This information, so obtained, may be ac- 
companied with many highly interesting and instructive biographical an- 
ecdotes of the principal actors in that nefariously conducted scheme, for 
makingfortunesoutofthe hard earnings of the war-worn veteran, Ameri- 
can Revolutionary soldier. Certainly there is a curse on all ill gotten gains. 
When I pass by a certain elegant house in Broad-street, I am forcibly 
reminded of this truth, when I remember the materials out of which it 
was constructed ; and how shortly thereafter it passed out of the posses- 
eion of its original scrip-jobbing owner. And when 1 meet a certain 
scrip-dealing individual, with whom I was acquainted from the tima 
of his importation into this city, and consider the manner in which 
he obtained his wealth, I envy him not his riches, neither would I ex- 
change BituatioDS with him, on the condition of bearing about with oie 



NOTES ON THE LIFE OF &c. 225 

the opprobrious epithet which he will carry with him to his grare, for all 
the taxable property in the city of New-York. 

The second circumstance in my life, to which I would adrert, is that 
of the most serious and dangerous sickness I ever experienced. For 
want of a better name, it was called the " Dock fever." No one at first 
was acquainted with its origin; and its proper mode of treatment was un- 
known to the physicians. I cannot describe its symptoms with the ac- 
curacy of a physician ; but I can give some account of the disposition of 
both my body and my mind, occasioned by the disease. I arose early 
in the morning and dressed myself, and was going down stairs, when I 
felt a certain languor oppressing my system, which I concluded arose 
from a want of more sleep. I accordingly threw myself on my bed, in 
my clothes, intending to take a nap, but a certain unaccountable rest- 
lessness prevented my intention. Besides, the charge of opening the 
store in the morning devolved on me, and my uncle's partner was 
a very early riser. I determined to attend to my duty. I had not 
however advanced further than the landing place, on the stairs, when 
I fell, and the noise of my fall awoke my uncle, who slept in the 
room below. He came up the stairs, and turning me over, inquired 
what was the matter with me? I told him I did not know. Said he, 
" you have got the yellow fever, and must go to your bed." He helped 
me to my bed, and sent for his family physician, Doctor John Rodgers, 
who bled me, and shortly afterwards I became delirious, and did not re- 
gain my reason until the next day, after which I gradually recovered, 
and in seven days was pronounced to be out of danger, and walked from 
No. 37 Stone-street to the Battery, and back again. About this time, 
or shortly afterwards, it was discovered that the disease was an imported 
one, and had been brought from Africa, via the Havana, in a slave ship. 
That after the slaves were landed there, she was laden with a car- 
go of Coffee, the half of which was in a perishing state, and that she was 
then If ing at Rep(Uman-slip. "nw Fnlton-slin, wharf. And that alHbat 
part of the City had beeome infected with what was doubtless a black Af- 
rican fever or plague. The prevailing character of this fever or plague, 
judging from its effect on myself, was the violence of its attack, and the 
rapidity of its progress towards dissolution. An intense pain appeared 
to rage throughout my frame, and particularly in my forehead ; but when 
the Doctor inquired of me the next day, how I felt, I told him that 
every limb had suffered excruciating pain, but that the pain in my fore- 
head had changed to the back of my head, and that I felt much better ; 
he then began to entertain hopes of my recovery ; and he was not dis- 
appointed. Providence had not limited my stay on earth to the short 
space of one score of years. Its rapidity of progress towards dissolution 
in those whom it attacked, was such, so I was informed, as to render their 
death inevitable, unless it took a favorable turn within eight and forty 
hours. My recollection does not serve me to give the precise date of 
the existence of this fever or plague, nor could all my inquiries from 
several Doctors and others, and even from the brother of one of its vic- 
tims, enable me to state unequivocally the identical year in which it raged 
at Beekman-slip. I think, however, it must have been somewhere 
about the year 1798, or '9; of this much, however, I am certain, that it 
was the year in which two of my classmates at College, Effingham War- 
ner, and Robert Ray Remsen, (the brother of Henry Remsen, Esq.,) died 



226 NOTES ON THE LIFE OF &c. 

of tbatsame fever, and I think it also carried off General Malcolm. I fe^ 
..member seeing the barrels of tar in the slip, which the Corporation had 
ordered to be burned to disinfect the atmosphere in that vicinity. The 
ship was ordered away, and the fever or plague ceased. 

The next circumstance I think worth explaining, is the reason of my 
Uncle's affairs being so embarrassed that he could not assist me, while 
in partnership with Major Samuel Cooper, in the Grocery business, at 
Coenties-slip. The reason of this, was his allowing himself to be per- 
suaded to endorse and bond for unprincipled men ; I could enumerate 
several, but the most of them are dead, and I will not pollute my book 
by an insertion of their names. 

A certain man now living in New- York, who knew better than my- 
self in what my uncle's property consisted, assured me some time since, 
that if he had kept his property, it would then have been worth |!200,000. 
I say nothing of the man who betrayed him to bond for him to an amount 
that ruined him and all his nephew's earthly expectations. Well, let it go, 
"there is really, (as a certain friend of mine, since dead, once remarked 
to me,) " no use in crying for spilled milk." 

Though I have lived both in Albany and in Herkimer, yet they by the 
present expeditious mode of travelling are brought so nigh to New-York, 
that I think it unnecessary to consume the time and patience of the read- 
er, by giving any graphical description of those well known places. But 
I cannot think of closing these Notes without saying something of the 
pleasant Village of Mayville, in the County of Chautauque, and its beau- 
tiful little twenty-mile lake. 

Perhaps, however, it may not be uninteresting to premise that " Chau- 
tauque County, the westernmost part of the "Holland Land Company's 
purchase in the State of New- York," is bounded on the North by Lake 
Erie, whose waters wash it on its whole extent, on its Northern line, and 
separate it from the province of Upper Canada. Its length from East 

to WpsJ, oAnsmonnins at Cufarc^-ag^^ Orool., ^KloK di^iJoo it front tho 

County of Erie, formerly a component part of Niagara is nearly fifty 
miles following the meanderinge of the Lake, and its medium breadth 
from North to South is forty miles. 

Deriving its sources from nearly the centre of the County, lies Chau- 
tauque Lake, a quiet little sheet of water, delightfully embosomed in a 
charming forest, on which the patient hand ofcultivation has already mado 
considerable inroads. 

" This Lake on ordinary occasions, resembles in transparency the mir- 
ror in which beauty views itself, reflected with tenfoid lustre, and it is sel- 
dom lashed into foam by the contending elements. It is twenty miles 
in length, and on an average, its breadth is from two to two and a half 
miles. It discharges its waters southwardly, and uniting with a consid- 
erable stream, called (he Connewongo Creek, forms one of the princi- 
pal tributary waters of the Allegany river. The wild ducks visit the 
Lake in swarms during the Spring season ; and it abounds in fishe of 
excellent quality, as the Bass, the Pike, the Pickerel, and the Sunfish. 

The small, but pleasant Village of Mayville, is situated at the head of 
the Lake, extending northward about a mile, along a street ninety-nine 
feet in breadth ; intersected at certain distances by what is called slash 
roads, leading to different parts of the County. The public buildings in 
1830, were Uie Ccurt House and Jail, and the County Clerk's office.. 



NOTES ON THE LIFE OF &e. 227 

Near to these was the Land Office, and nearer the Lake, the Episcopal 
Church. I do not recollect the number of inhabitants, probably two 
hundred. But the greatest curiosity about May ville is, in my mind, that 
it not only presents the amazing declivity of seven hundred feet in ten 
miles of length, but that those ten miles, form what, I think, may be term- 
ed the third most important Isthmus of the World. That of Suez prevents 
the junction of the Mediterranean and Red Seas. That of Darien, the 
Atlantic and Pacific, and this of Chautauque all the largest Lakes of our 
Country, with all the Seas and Oceans of our world. For the out- 
let of Chautauque Lake falls into the Cwnnowongo Creek, these two run 
into the Allegany, the Allegany and Monongahela into the Ohio, the 
Ohio into the Mississippi, and the Mississippi into the Gulf of Mexico^ 

As to either the possibility or probability of connecting the Lakea 
Chautauque and Erie by means of a Canal, I affirm nothing, neither do 
I offer the above information as a discovery of my own, but merely ob- 
serve that the information was afforded me by certain individuals during 
my stay at the Village of Mayville, the Latitude of which place is stated 
as 42 deg. 18 min. 

I will only add one more curiosity, or rather peculiarity of a western 
winter, which I witnessed while at Mayville, and that is the long contin- 
ued snow in the winterjof 1830. What would a New-Yorker think ifthe 
City should be visited with a snow storm of IS successive days ; and that 
too not on a dry but a wet bottom, and that it should last for nearly four 
months ? The depth of the snow that fell that winter, commencing in 
the month of January, was estimated to average at least three feet, through- 
out the County, and some of it remained on the ground when I left for 
New-York, in the latter end of the month of April. I would merely ob» 
serve in conclusion, that on my inquiring the meaning of the Indian word 
Chautauque, I was informed that it signified saddle-bags in our language. 

VALEDICTORY ADDRESS. 

And now, kind reader, we bid you adieu, 

In the hope you have read our book quite through; 

If you on instruction are really bent, 

We trust your time has not been misspent. 

If from our work you this have obtained, 

Our labor's repaid, our object is gained. 



SYNOPSIS 



DOCTOR SAMUEL JOHNSON, 



Appendix to an English and Hebrew Grammar; being a Synopsis of all 
the parts of Learning; or a general scheme for a division of the sci- 
ences, according to the natural order of things. By Samuel John- 
son, D. D., Late President of King's, now Columbia, College, in 
New-York, &c. London, printed for, &c., 1771. 

As Grammar is the introduction to the other parts of Learning, it may 
be of some use to set down the entire prospect of the whole in one short 
view, that young beginners may the better understand what it is they 
are about to undertake in the course of their education. 

Learning, which the Greeks called Cyclopaedia, implies the know- 
ledge of every thing both speculative and practical, that is conducive to 
our true happiness, both present and future. So that the great end pur- 
sued through the whole, is, our happiness; and the means to that end 
are knowledge and practice. Science is the knowledge of Truth con- 
sidered speculatively; and Art is the knowledge of Truth considered as 
directive of practice in order to our true good and happiness. 

Now, all the parts of learning, both the Sciences and Arts, may?be re- 
duced to these two heads, Philology and Philosophy, Words and Things. 

L Philology is the study of words or language, as a means in order 
the better to understand the nature of things. It is also called Delles 
Lettres ; and this is either general or special. 

1. General Philology is common to all kinds of speaking, and is 

1. Grammar, which is the art of clearly and properly expressing the 
sense of our minds in words and sentences, either by speaking or wri- 
ting, and 

2. Rhetoric, which is the art of embellishing our language with the 
most striking and beautiful expressions, the Tropes and Figures. 

V 



230 SYNOPSIS. 

II. Special Philology treats oP what IS peculiar to several kinds of speak- 
ing and writing, as 

1. Oratory, which is the art of true Eloquence, or of writing or speak- 
ing in the most persuasive manner, by inventing on every subject, all 
the proper arguments of persuasion, and disposing them to the best ad- 
vantage, and in uttering and delivering our composition or speech in the 
most striking and graceful manner. 

2. History, which is the art of making clear and exact narration of 
true matters of fact, with the circumstances of time and place, for the 
instruction and benefit of posterity. And, 

3. Poetry, which is the art of making a just and lively description of 
persons or things either real or imaginary, with an elevation and dig- 
nity of thought, and the advantage of numbers and harmony, and every 
ornament language is capable of, for conveying the most useful instruc- 
tion, attended with the utmost delight; and, lastly, relating to all these 
is the art Criticism, which teaches the true force of words and phrases, 
the nature of style and a true taste, so as to make a right judgment of 
the real beauties and excellencies of any performance, and to distin- 
guish between what is genuine and what is counterfeit. 

II. Philosophy is the study of Truth and Wisdom ; or the knowledge 
of things, as being what they really are, together with a right conduct 
correspondent thereunto, in the pursuit of true happiness, both here 
and hereafter. 

Now, all the things or beings about which our studies in pursuit of 
Truth and Wisdom can be employed are either Bodies or Spirits, i. e. 
things sensible or intellectual, which constitute the whole Universe. — 
The World of Bodies and the World of Spirits, or the Natural or Mor- 
al World. — Hence Philosophy necessarily divides itself into those two 
great branches. Physics and Metaphysics, taking these words in a sense 
somewhat larger than usual. — Understanding by Physics the study of 
the things of nature and sense, and what relates to them : and by Meta- 
physicSj'the study of things that are above and beyond the sensible na- 
ture, or mere passive objects of sense ; to wit, spiritual or intelligent, 
free active beings, or moral agents, and what relates to them. The first 
is, therefore, properly called Natural Philosophy, and the second may 
be called Moral Philosophy. 

I. Natural Philosophy then is the study of the nature of every thing 
in this natural or sensible world : this world of bodies and what relates 
to them, and to the comfort and benefit of our hfe in this present state. 
And it is, 

1. General in the mathematics which teach the knowledge of the com- 



SYNOPSIS. 231 

mon affections of bodies, number and magnitude, which are necessary 
prtECognita to the study of the following parts; hence, 

1. Arithmetic, vvliich is the art of numbering; to which belongs Alge- 
bra. 

2. Geometrj', which is the art of measuring, to which belongs Trigo- 
nometry, Surveying, Gauging, and the doctrine of the Sphere and Cy- 
linder, and of Conic Sections, and Fluxions. 

II. Special, of all the particular things in the natural world, and this 
contains the following sciences and arts : 

1. Mechanics, which explain the nature and qualities of bodies, and 
the forces by which they move, and demonstrate the various laws of their 
motion. Here belong Statics, Pneumatics, and Hydraulics. 

2. Physics (strictly so called) or Geology, in which we contemplate 
this Terraqueous Globe, and its atmosphere, with all its parts and fur- 
niture, both inanimate and animate. The first are the elements, fire, 
air, water and earth. The stones, mines, minerals and meteors : the 
others are plants and animals, and particularly the wonderful structure 
of our own bodies. — Here, therefore, belong Geography, Navigation 
and Commerce; Agriculture, Chemistry and Botany; Optics and Mu- 
sic ; Anatomy, Surgery and Medicine, and every thing useful in life. 
And, 

3. Astronomy, in which from the Earth we launch forth into the vast 
immeasurable Ether, and contemplate the Heavens and stars, both fixed 
and erratic ; particularly our Sun with its splendid chorns of Planets and 
Comets ; and determine their orbits, magnitudes and densities, and the 
'aws of their motions, in the tides of their fluids, and their diurnal and 
annual revolutions. To which belong Chronology and Dialling. In all 
these parts of natural philosophy there are many Arts and practical Blat- 
ters ; and the facts in all nature are related in Natural History. 

II. Moral Philosophy is the study of the Moral World, or the world of 
intelligent, free, active beings, or moral Agents, and what relates to them, 
in the pursuit of our true happiness, both here and forever in our future 
state. Here then we ascend from the sensible and natural, to the intel- 
ligent and moral world, from the world of bodies to the world of spirits. 
And this is either speculative or practical; tlie first relates chiefly to 
Truth, and^may be (more strictly) called metaphysics ; the second relates 
chiefly to duty or manners, and in a large sense, may be called Ethics. 

The speculative part of moral philosophy in its full extent, explains 
what can be known of intelligent active beings, and here the first is 

1st. Logic, which explains and directs the powers and operation of the 
mind and understanding, including both Ontology, or the science of the 



232 SYNOPSIS. 

general notion of Being, with its various afTections, as applied both to 
body and spirit. And Dialectic or the art of the right conduct of the mind 
in thinking and reasoning. 

N. B. Though this is the proper place of Logic, in the order of the 
sciences, yet it is necessary to teach it immediately after some progress in 
Philology, in order to our forming clear and just conceptions and rea- 
sonings in Philosophy. 

2d. Pneumatology is the Doctrine of Spirits or created intelligences ; 
and here we begin with onr own souls, their powers and operations, both 
perceptive and active ; and thence we proceed to other intelligences 
whether good or bad ; and by analogy we gradually arise to the best con- 
ceptions we are capable of, of the Deity, the Father, Creator and Lord 
of all, in 

3d. Theology, which is the knowledge of God, and his Attributes, op- 
erations and dispensations in the creation and government of the world, 
with regard to which, and our duty, we are obliged to depend on the 
Revelation of his mind and will ; which he hath graciously made to man- 
kind. 

n. The practical part of Moral Philosophij chiefly relates to life and 
conduct in our several capacities, both personal and social, and this is 
what is more strictly called Moral Philosophy. And it consists of three 
parts ; the chief of which, and ground of the rest is, 

1. Ethics, strictly so called, ^which is the right conduct of our temper 
and behaviour in all our relations towards God and man, both to our- 
selves and others, in order to our true and endless happiness. To which 
succeed 

2. Economics, which treat of the right conduct of families, and every* 
thing that relates to them. And lastly, 

3. Politics, which treat of the constitution and good government of 
Cities, Kingdoms and Republics; and as good policy provides for the 
happiness of men both temporal and spiritual, it must consist of two 
great branches, viz. Civil and Ecclesiastical polity. And the facts in 
the moral world are related in Biography, and in Civil and Ecclesiastical 
History. 



ERRATA. 



The Author is satisfied that errors will be detected by a particu- 
lar description, at least, of his Subscribers, during the perusal of his 
work. And if any thing need be urged for the commission of such er- 
rors, by way of extenuation, it would be that they were not discovered 
until after the sheets had gone to press. 

One error, however, from its grossness, he feels constrained in this way 
to correct; it will be discovered in the note at the foot of page 43, viz. 
" art perennium," to make v%hich right, please change the final m into s, 
and you will have the neuter gender of the comparative degree of the 
word perennis, thus — ior-ior-us. 

Whatever other errors may be found to exist, either in the English, 
Latin, or Greek, throughout the book, he anticipatingly commends them 
to the clemency of the reader ; assuring him, that with all the labor and 
dilligence he has bestowed both by night and by day, on the Specimens, 
in order to present them faultless ; he has nevertheless found it next to 
impossible to steer clear of some errors in a first impression, and this he 
considers is mainly to be attributed to the circumstance of its having to 
pass through so many different hands, previously to its receiving its 
final touch from those of the pressman. 

THE AUTHOR. 



SUBSCRIBER'S NAMES. 



Anthon, John 
Arcularius, Peter G. 
Antliony, Jacob 
Angelis, Gideon De 
Arcularius, Philip J. 
Adams, James 
Abeli, Henry 
Asten, Abraham 
Allee, Daniel 
Allee, Joseph B. 
Arrowsmith, Augustus T. 
Arrovvsmith, M. 

Bowne, Walter 
Bogardus, Robert 
Bogardiis, Wiihaih H. 
Burr, Edward 
Burlock, HortonH. 
Bradhurst, John M. 
Burling, Bernard K. 
Buckley, Thomas T. 
Baxter, Timothy 
Bowne, John R. 
Bruorton, William 
Britten, Henry M. 
Brown, W. L. 
Barford, S. 
Barkaloo, H. H. 
Beers, Nathan T. 
Burling, Lancaster S. 
Barberie, S. 
Bruce, William H. 
Bailey, John F. 
Brady, Thomas S. 
Bevoise, Garret De 
Barker, Smith 
Brooks, Sidney S. 
Brown, M. D. Edward V. 
Burnett, Rev. Wm. 
Brown, Joshua D. 



Crolius, Clarksou 
Cowdrey, Samuel 
Cochran, M. D. Hugh H. 
Carpenter, J. S. 
Cooper, John M. 
Cornwell, Richard 
Cowdrey, David M. 
Covert, Richard D. 
Clark, E. W. 
Cox, Henry F. 
Cornwell, Richard H. 
Cox, William 
Cauipbell, James 
Conklin, Joseph 
Coles, Willet 
Coulant, Gilbert 
Connor, Charles 
Curaberton, William 



Dean, Nicholas 
De Peyster, George 
Degraw, Walter 
Dewitt, Peter 
Dodge, Henry S* 
Dodge, W. 
De Caaip, John 
Deuel, Silas J. 
Duryee, John T. 
Dodge, Robert 
Duryea, Tunis H. 
De Klyn, Bernard 
Doughty, John S. 
Davis, James R. 
Daiido, Stephen 
Davis, Ezra P. 



Everit, William 
Erben, Henry 
Els worth, William 



236 



SUBSCRIBER'S NAMES. 



Eben, Jr. Peter 
Eking, William 

Frazier, William 
Ferris, Charles G. 
Furmaii, Gabriel 
Fisher, Jr. Leonard 
Fisher, Henry 
Frasier, Alfred S. 

Frantzkee, F. W. 

Flanagan, John R. 

Fisher, George 

Freeman, Lorrain 

Fleming, John A. 

Fowler, D.A. 

Forbes, James 

Frink, M. D. Cyrus 

Frasier, Thomas 

Forbes, David A. 

Greenfield, John V. 
Gilford, Jr. Samuel 
Gale, William 
Gilfilland, M. D. George 
Garr, Andrew S. 
Gemmel, James 
Gemmel, John 
Gould, Banks & Co. 
GoUsber>rer, H. H. 
Gould, William 
Gould, Anthony 

Harper & Brothers, 
Hoxie, Joseph 
Hart, John J. 
Harned, Wiliam H. 
HassJer, J. J. S. 
Herring, Elbert 
Hinckley, Charles A. 
Haskett, W. J. 
Henrv, T. S. 
Hope, G. T. & Co. 
Husson, Joseph 
Hawkins, Richard G. 
Hunn, T. 
Hicks, Thomas 
Hillyer, John 
Hull, Frances 
Hagadorn, J. F. 
Hart, M. B. 



Hall, George 

Ireland, George 
Innes, George 

Janeway, W. W. 
Jackson, Thomas 
Jackson, Henry 
Jones, David S. 
Jones, Hercules H. 
Johnson, Rev. Evan M. 
Johnson, Samuel E. 
Johnson, Jeromua 
I Johnson, Oscar 

Keese, Johi> 
Keese, J. Lawrence 
Keese, W. Lynn 
Keith, Minor H. 
Kinsey, John 

Lounds, Oliver M. 
Laight, Edward W. 
j Loutrel, Lewis 
j Lefferts, Leffert 

Lineback, Charles F. 
I Livingston, Liv. 
I Lynch, James 
I Lozier, John 

Lazarus, E. S. 

Lawrence, W. 

Leveridge, John W. C. 

Langley, J. & H. 

Lynch, George H. E. 

Livingston. R. D. 

Lent, G. W. 

Ledynrd, John 

Lawrence, John L. 

Lawrence, Isaac 
Loines, John 

Morris, Robert H. 
Morrcll, John A- 
BTackay, Hay S. 
Manu, Josiah 
Mitchell, David B, 
Monk, Joseph 
Marschajk, George B. 
Meiggs Henry, 
Marschalk, John 
Maci'arlan, Thomas 



SUBSCRIBER'S NAMES, 



237 



McKeeii, James 

Mason, Michael P. 

Morse, Nathan B. 

Miller, Sylvanus 

Milner, J. Picton 

Marselis, Peter T. 

Mcintosh, R. 

Manley, M. D. James R. 
McCoun, J. W. 
Mulden, James M. 
McGowan, James 
Morrill, Elisha 
Mjers, M. S. 
Meigs, Henry 
Myers, John 
Mortimer, Georc° 
Milpra, William 
Mills, Jr. David S 
McClean, John 

Noah, M. M. 
Nicoll, Edward A. 
Nack, James 
Nagle, Cornelius 

Olwell, Matthew 
O'Brien, S. J. 

Phoenix, Thomas 
Palmer, M. D. Walter C. 
Price, John 
Paget, Charles 
Pinckney, Elijah R. 
Phillips, H. 
Pattison, James H. 
Pike Otis 
Piatt, F. A. 
Phillips, Alfred A. 
Piggot, Joseph 

Quackenhnsh, Jr. James 
Quackenbos, JMangle M. 
Quackenbos, Nicholas J. 

Riker, John L. 
Reynolds,. Micajah 
Richmond, AVarren 
Ryer, Benjamin F. 
Riley, Joseph 
Riker, John C. 
Renolds, James G. 



Roy, William L. 
Ryder, Alfred M. 
Richardson, Simon 
Remsen, Henry 

Schieffelin, Effingham 
Schietfelin, Henry H. 
Scheffelin, R. L. 
Sandford, Charles W. 
Strong, Charles A. 
Sevvall, William E. 
Schureman, Nicholas 
Stewart, Alexander 
Stephens, Alfred G. 
Scovell, Harris 
Sturges, Samuel 
Shaler, William 
Stemler, John A. 
Sackett, Clarence D. 
Ste{jliens, Augustus C. 
Sherman, James 
Sharp, Richard 
Smith, Edwin E. 
Smith, John 
Smith, William 
j Sidcll, John A. 
I Spooner, Alden 
I Smith, W 
Sands, William 
Swords, Frances D. 
Spinney, Joseph 
Story, Rufus 

Stanton, P. Van Rensallaer, 
Smuh, S. Alpheus 
Sprague, Joseph 
Sherman, Alpheus 
Stone, William L. 
Shotwell, Samuel 
Sands, Daniel R. 
Shippey, William 



Tompkins, M. D., N. U. 
Thorne, Richard V. W. 
Tombs, Andrew 
Tombs, Andrew J. F. 
Timpson, John 
Thomson, Wm. B. 
Trask, W. E. 
Trask, E. R. 
Triqnet, E. G. 
Tenney, P. W. 



233 



SUBSCRIBER'S NAMES. 



Thorne, John 
Townseiid, John K. 
Thorne, M. D.John S. 
Thorne, Henry W. 
Terry, Samuel 
Thyson, Henry 
Tillou, G. W. 
Toule, J. 
Tihbets, John G. 

Van Buren, Martin 
Varian, Isaac 
Vincent, Edward 
Vosburgh, Abraham 
Vnltee, Henry V. 
Van Pelt, M. D. Abraham 
Van Antwerp, John E. 
Van Santvoort & Goddard, 
Van Cott, Albert B. 
Van Wyck, Jr. Stephen 
Van Nice, Stephen 
Van Cleef, Abraham 



Vanderpool, A. B. 

Whiting. William 
Wilson, Peter 
Wilson, George 
Whiting, Charles 
Woolsey, John 
Wyne, William 
Wanamaker, H. B. 
Woodward, John 
Williamson, Dow D. 
Whitmore, Luther 
Wood, James L. 
Wood, William H. 
Willetts, L. S. 
Wilson, William II. 
Williamson, Nicholas 
Wyckoff, Richard S. 
Waring, Nathaniel F. 
Welling, William 
Wilson, Harris 
Wilson, M. D. Abraham D. 



